


The Madness of the Mind

by IAintAJudas



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Daryl, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, F/M, Minor Rick Grimes/Michonne, Violence, bethyl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-01-16 04:40:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1332286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAintAJudas/pseuds/IAintAJudas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Irrational thoughts lead to uncontrollable desires. Daryl Dixon is not only fighting the undead any more, he is battling with his inner demons and the prospect of his closely guarded walls cracking around him. A series of events unfold that leave Daryl choosing between his heart, or his head and the voices inside. Daryl/Beth, rated M for eventual smut</p><p>Also posted on fanfiction.com, same pseudonym & story title</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mind Set

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Notes.
> 
> This is a Bethyl/Beth/Daryl fanfiction.
> 
> I do not own anything, all rights belong to the creators of The Walking Dead.
> 
> This story is based around the start of Season 3.
> 
> Michonne and Andrea do not get taken by the Governor, he is not part of the continuity of the story.
> 
> Lori dies before this story begins, and there were no survivors in the ruins of the prison.
> 
> The witching hour that approaches has a host of  
> Seven plagues, packs of locusts, rats and roaches  
> Trapped in the throws of attacking that that's closest  
> Legs aching from the pace that I'm running at  
> Death chasing, ain't safe till the sun is back
> 
> ~Parade of the Dead – Hilltop Hoods~

Daryl enjoyed his night-time watch tower duties, he was leaning against the cold railing, watching out over the courtyard, the twilight was almost serene, no sounds other than those of wilderness and the occasional moan of a walker, lurking outside the prison fences. The world had gone to shit, he knew that. Everybody knew that. They'd set up a half-decent home here now though, it had taken a while but they had cleared the prison of the remaining dead, there were no survivors among the ruins. Daryl had thought it ironic that the jail, once populated in mass by criminals and those who had taken an oath to persecute them and guard them in the prison walls, thrived together as inhuman creations.

He spent a lot of time thinking when he was on guard, always the first to volunteer when Rick wrote the rota, they had lost track of days and months, except a few of the women whom had taken it upon themselves to count the time that had gone by, they said it was important to know how long had past and that knowing birthdays and holidays would make their new lives a bit more real. Daryl had kept his thoughts to himself on that one, he didn't care particularly about the dates, hell, he'd forgotten his own age a long time ago, mid thirties – he knew that much.

Tonight he had a lot on his mind, he nibbled absently on the skin of his thumb, he'd convinced himself that he'd kicked that habit a long time ago, but with the current situations unfolding and the near-as-dammit apocalypse, he'd learnt not to care. However, it all threatened to consume Daryl's self-preserved mind-state. With a frustrated sigh he yanked his thumb away, drawing a cigarette out of his vest pocket and lit it, he took a deep drag – wincing at the menthol burn, he needed to stock up on packets next time they were on a run – he stared out across the blackness, he'd spent most of his life in rural Georgia, not really noticing the light or noise pollution that man-kind had caused throughout their reign of supremacy. Since mankind's 'extinction event' as Jenner had described it, he'd realized just how peaceful planet Earth could be when it wasn't being choked by humanity.

Daryl Dixon had never been a man of many emotions, not those that he openly showed around the folk he met, until the apocalypse he was a lonely and angry man, that had no concept of friendship, love or any of the other crappy human emotions. He'd preferred to keep up the tough, iron exterior. He only had Merle and even then, he was absent throughout his childhood, taking many stints in juvenile detention hall or prison. The life he had tried to bury in the inner depths of his mind, the corners of his memory that were hazy in the repressed darkness. He contemplated his new life, he had joined a group of people who he had learnt to care about and defend, he had grown fond of these folk, learning snippets of their lives and pasts.

Rick, he liked him. He'd welcomed him to the group and protected him from himself in his darker moments, he'd never tell him that though, not outright at least. The small smiles and nods were all the pair needed, they understood each other. Since Lori's death though, he'd been different. Started keeping pigs, Daryl couldn't judge on that though, the man had been stricken with grief and was best left to his own thoughts at these times.

Carol, he'd searched for days looking for her poor little girl, it broke his heart when she had stumbled out of the Greene's barn, her milky, dead eyes had made him want to cry. He'd tried his hardest to protect Carol from it all, and from then on she had become a close ally and a good friend, their jokes and flirty banter had kept them both sane in these hard times.

Maggie and Glen, they gave him hope, falling in love and fighting tooth and claw to defend each other in the midst of the death infected world.

Hershel, the man who had held them all together.

Michonne, the woman who had appeared at their gates, two 'pet walkers' and a near-catatonic Andrea in tow, the woman in the hooded shawl. He could relate to her, her eyes hid the demons of her past, escaping through the deadly swipe of her katana.

Judith and Carl, he'd protect those kids until it killed him.

Tyreese and Sasha, a badass brother and sister duo who he respected.

Then there was little Beth Greene, the apple of Hersel's eye and the little sister that Maggie would defend to the death. She was sweet 'n all, and Daryl couldn't deny that he'd had a few thoughts about her when he'd spied her singing to Judith or absent-mindedly wandering around the courtyard doing chores. It made him feel like a dirty old man, so he'd sent the irrational thoughts to the vault in his mind, to linger there for as long as they could.

Daryl nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice interrupted his thoughts, "Oi redneck, time to switch,"

"Jesus christ Maggie, will 'ya give me a bit of warnin' next time?!" He snapped at the brunette, she smirked at him with her hand on her hip.

"G'wan get goin', busy day tomorrow,"

Daryl flicked his cigarette over the edge of the tower, snatching up his cross-bow and swinging it onto his shoulder, he nodded at Maggie before hastily descending the stairs, he didn't question what she'd said, every day was a busy day in the god-damn apocalypse. He slipped through the prison doors and into the calm stillness.


	2. 24 Hours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors note
> 
> I thought I'd post another update to the story tonight as I got way more views that I thought I would after only a few hours! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Please review and follow!
> 
> 18/03 - This chapter has been reworked slightly
> 
> Mila

Daryl groaned and clutched his head, he blindly fumbled for his pillow and smacked it down over the side of his head. His cell was on the second floor of the prison, but he could still hear the infernal racket from the ground floor, people were yelling and making a lot of unnecessary noise. After a few minutes of hopelessly trying to get back to sleep Daryl gave up, throwing the pillow on the floor angrily, he hauled himself out of bed and yanked his t shirt on. He always slept in his trousers, his boots unlaced – waiting – by the side of his bunk, he was always prepared for a sudden awakening, but today it seemed people were just being loud for the sake of it.

He grumbled under his breath, tidying his boots and pulling his crossbow onto his shoulder, he wore a scowl upon his face as he stalked down the hallway and down the metal staircase.

"What's with all the goddamn noise? It's early, can't you people let me sleep?" He yelled, swinging around the corner to the location of the racket. The prison folk were gathered around a table, their cheerfulness disrupted by Daryl's shouting, they all turned to look at him as he entered the room.

"Daryl," Carol hissed, staring at him, the disappointment laced on her pretty features, arms folded across her chest.

He looked around the room and scowled, "What?" It took him a moment before he realized that Beth was seated at the round, metal table, it was littered with newspaper and small objects. She glanced at him and met his eye, she looked saddened by his reaction.

"It's Beth's birthday," Rick stated, "We're up early, rather than...letting you sleep, 'cause we care,"

All the staring was making Daryl uncomfortable, "What?" he snapped, "I don't care about birthdays, why's she so special?" He spat out, crossing the room to the prison door, opened it and made sure to slam it hard behind him.

Beth sat at the table, everyone was still silent, not knowing what to say or do after Daryl's unnecessary outburst, Carl was poking at a piece of newspaper on the floor with his foot, she looked away, trying not to let the tears fall from her eyes. Some birthday this was, her eighteenth ruined by an asshole redneck.

"M'sorry Beth," Rick said, breaking the silence, before he could finish his sentence, Beth jumped up and ran back to her cell, the pent up tears escaping from her eyes in embarrassment and upset, her cries echoing in the silent halls.

"You get him here, you get him here right now!" Maggie shouted, slamming her hand against the table, "How could he do that?"

Carol sighed and touched Maggie's hand, "I'll speak to her," she smiled sadly before gathering up Beth's presents in an intact sheet of paper and following to her cell.

Carl was uncomfortable with the situation and gathered up the discarded paper, muttering something about recycling, before slipping out of the door. Once it shut behind him he heard all hell break loose, the adults were obviously waiting until the younger folk had left the room before shouting about what had happened. Carl sighed, he spotted Michonne staring across the courtyard at him, she'd heard the commotion as well, he disposing of the discarded newspaper onto the floor and jogged over to her watchtower.

The metal steps clanged underneath his feet as he ran up the stairs, "I need your help," he said once he had reached the top.

Michonne stood, hand on her hip, the other touching the handle of her katana, "What's happened?"

Carl slumped down to the floor, taking off his hat and holding it in his hands "Where's Daryl?"

She leaned against the railing glancing around the perimeter of the fencing, there were not many walkers at the prison today, thankfully. During her free time the previous day, she'd gone and stabbed several dozen of 'em with her katana, pest control she'd called it. Ridding the world of walker-scum, one by one. "The red-neck practically ran to his damn motorbike a few minutes ago, kicked the floor pretty hard first though. I think it hurt him. He seemed pretty pissed off when I went to let him out. Why?" She smirked.

"It's Beth's birthday,"

"I know, what's that gotta do with Daryl?" Michonne said with an air of sarcasm in her voice.

"He shouted at everyone for wakin' him up, Beth ran off cryin'" Carl smacked his hat down on the floor in frustration, Michonne raised her eyebrow in response, clearly amused by the young boy.

"I'll have a word with him, now g'wan get back in there," She said softly, prodding Carl's leg with her foot, "See if they formin' a lynch mob yet,"

The day passed by without any more disruptions, Carol had managed to lure Beth back out of her cell and to the table again, Rick had presented her with a tinned can of pudding as a attempt at a birthday cake, she'd laughed and hugged him in appreciation. They had sung birthday songs and Hershel had told stories about Beth before the outbreak, tearing up a little bit as he said that she wasn't his little girl so much any more. Everyone enjoyed themselves, and after a few hours it was business as usual, Michonne and Tyreese – who were on guard duty most of that morning gave their best wishes to Beth as they swapped with Glen and Sasha. She appreciated all of the fuss that the group had made for her birthday, they didn't have to she thought, they barely knew her. Before all of this happened she would have spent her birthday with her Mom, Daddy and the rest of the family back at her beautiful farm, she would have ridden Nelly around the fields and would have had a birthday cake with candles and beautiful presents. Who'd have known a year ago that she'd be spending it in a prison, with a bunch of practically-strangers in the midst of the end of the world.

She noticed at dinner, that Daryl still hadn't come back inside the prison, Carl said he left hours ago and that he was angry when Michonne saw him. She wasn't surprised at his reaction, she was just hurt that he'd ruined her day and not cared. She liked Daryl though, he had a heart of gold beneath that stone-cold exterior, she'd seen the way he looked at Carol's little girl when she came out of that barn. His heart broke and she'd saw it.

It was late when chaos erupted at the prison again, Beth was sat in Carl's room helping him look after lil' baby Judith when she'd heard the low growl of Daryl's motorbike, she'd tried to ignore it – continuing talking to Carl about what she knew about babies – her limited knowledge that she'd been taught in home economics at high school, but he'd heard it too. He placed his hand over Beth's as she rocked his baby sister in her arms, he'd seen the pallor wash over her face. A loud slam made the pair jump, the yelling followed immediately.

"You and me gon' talk Daryl," Michonne shouted.

"No we ain't. Just git off my back," He yelled in response, something metal clanged against the floor. He must have kicked over one of the chairs or somethin'

A cell on the ground floor slammed open, "Daryl, enough!" It was Rick, it voice was irritable, Beth and Carl could hear his boots hitting against the stone floor as he stormed out.

"Fuck off the lot of 'ya. Where is she then?" He shouted, "Beth! Beth git here!"

She froze, tears welling up in her blue eyes for the second time that day. Carl snaked an arm around her waist, resting his cheek on her shoulder, Judith had fallen asleep despite the noise and was curled up in Beth's arms, her face was so peaceful Carl thought, what a home for a baby to grow up in. There was never gon' be a chance of sleepin' through the night when an angry redneck kept yellin'

"Leave her alone," Carol's voice snapped. Daryl's response was muted by Michonne shouting again.

Heavy footsteps slammed against the staircase to the second floor, Carl prayed that Daryl didn't come bargin' in, wakin' Judith up and yellin' at Beth. His shadow fell against the dark interior of Carl's cell, luckily he continued further down the hall, the prison fell silent – the shouting had stopped, Carl thought that perhaps – luckily – everyone had decided to stay out of it now. He squeezed Beth's shoulder as sobs rocked her tiny body.

After a few minutes Daryl stormed back up the walkway, this time a little less loud, however his quiet cursing persisted. His shadow passed Carl's dark cell again, seemingly unaware of the pair sat silently inside.

"I'm takin' watch now, tell Rick he's on next,"

The reply was too quiet for the pair to hear, Michonne and Rick had abandoned the confrontation going back to their cells before Daryl returned. The metal door creaked before banging shut, signalling his departure.

"I'm gon' go bed now," Beth whispered, pulling the sleeping baby up against her chest, "I'll see 'ya in the mornin'. Thanks for this,"

Carl smiled as she quietly left the cell.

Beth laid Judith down as gently as she could into her cot, it had taken her a while to develop a maternal instinct towards the youngster, Rick was too distracted to take any real care of her and all the other women in the prison were always out or on duty, so the role of surrogate mommy was left to her, she didn't mind really. It wasn't like there was a chance that she'd have children of her own any time soon, so the bond between herself and the little baby was comforting in a way.

She went to pull her t-shirt over her head but was distracted by a small object on her bed, frowning she picked it up to check it over. It was a small ball of white paper – small smears of dirt all over it, but it was tied together by a shoelace. She smiled, thinking that maybe it was a late present off of one of the others. She tugged at the lace and the package fell apart onto her bunk, a small silver locket fell onto the drab sheets, it looked nearly new. Frowning she flattened the paper out against the bed, there was scruffy and unintelligible handwriting strewn across it -

Sory

Hapy burtday

x

She let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding. A smile crept across her soft features. Daryl.

Daryl stood in the watch tower, his head was resting against his closed fist as he leaned against the railing. He was a stupid son of a bitch for doin' that. He didn't mean to upset the girl, or react the way he did, he'd felt a pang of guilt as he spied her face in the group, saddened by what had occurred. After the commotion he'd left the prison and skulked away towards his precious bike, anger coursed through his veins. Without warning he viciously kicked at the floor with his foot, wincing as the pain spread up his leg, hissing through his teeth he continued his bee-line towards the exit.

He'd heard a soft laugh in the silence of the morning, swinging around he glared up at the owner of said voice, Michonne had seen everything. "You gon' let me out then?" She'd responded with a sarcastic salute before heading towards him. She'd opened the gate at his request, making a comment about his 'attitude problem' before slamming it shut behind him. He'd ignored her and headed off to find Beth something to apologize with.

A small silver locked, he'd found it in a abandoned shop – well out of the way of anywhere, he didn't know what to get her, she was a girl – girl's liked jewellery he figured. Not that he knew anything about the opposite sex, at all.

Michonne's smug sarcasm of that morning was more preferable than her reaction when he'd returned hours later. She stormed behind him as he reached the prison doors, shouting and hurling all sorts of abuse at him, he didn't care though – he just wanted to give her the present and leave again. She wasn't in her cell though and a confrontation with Michonne, Rick and Carol – the latter two finding backbones for once, did not improve his mood. He wished he hadn't have written anything on the paper now, she must now thing he was a real uneducated hick, he'd done high school, not very much of it though, once Merle began his reign of terror against the teachers and enrolled on Daryl to assist his cruel games, all hopes of an education left, the Dixon brothers had become the teachers' horror story to tell to naughty kids about what would happen if they didn't do all their homework and arrived on time. He may not exactly be book smart or could spell that well, but he knew enough about what he needed to. A smirk crossed his hard features as he thought about his teachers, they thought he was a lost cause that was never gon' do any good, he'd proved 'em all wrong by being one of the only sons of bitches surviving the god damn zombie apocalypse.

Deep in his thoughts he watched out over the pitch black night, well after midnight he thought, chain smoking to keep himself alert, the harsh nicotine hit cooled his temper down and brought his thoughts around to being more rational for once. Rick would take over in a few hours and would allow him to get some rest, he knew he had to calm his mind before then or he wouldn't get any sleep, and they had a supply run to go on tomorrow, wouldn't do anyone any good if he fell asleep whilst ridin', it'd be just his luck - survive the zombie apocalypse, die of fatigue.

"Thank you,"

Daryl jumped out of his skin for the second time in 24 hours, his gaze snapped up to meet that of Beth Greene's. She had a small smile on her face, she was dressed in small white shorts and her yellow t-shirt, she'd been heading to bed when she'd found his present then. He dragged his eyes away from her and clutched the side of the wall with one hand.

"Y'welcome," He grumbled back, his fingers unclenching from the handle of his cross-bow to join the other. God damned women needed to stop sneaking up on him or he was gon' end up shooting one of 'em.

She took a few steps towards him before pressing a soft kiss against his stubbled cheek, he flinched at the sensation of her touch "Means 'a lot," she whispered, turning on her heel and retreating from the tower.

Daryl's heart pounded against his ribcage when Beth kissed him, her soft lips a shocking contrast to his rough unshaven skin, he could smell her perfume as she'd leaned in, her soft blonde hair brushing against his arm. From what was a platonic gesture of thanks, Daryl's mind raced as he struggled to control his heart rate. It took all of his might to not turn and take one last glance at her as she retreated.


	3. Night Terrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors notes
> 
> Thankyou to everyone that had viewed, favourites and reviewed so far keep 'em coming. I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far. Here is the latest update, written in Beth's POV

My life before all of this happened was a simple one, I woke up early and went to high school – I spent time with my friends and studied hard to get into college. At the weekends I'd help my mom and daddy with the farm, I'd go shopping with Maggie and spend time with Jimmy.

I'd always heard stories of zombies and the end of the world, the sky catching fire and civilisation turning to ask, the dead rising and filling with earth with disease, destroying humanity and bringing the world to it's knees. I never thought it would happen though.

Today I woke up in my cell – prison cell – and began an 'ordinary' day in the new world, not that you'd really call it that. I wasn't sure of what the time was exactly, my body clock seemed to adjust to the routine here, it couldn't have been that late or Judith would have been screaming by now – that's Rick and Lori's little girl, but I look after her whilst her daddy looks after us, I'm not too good at fighting so I'm just the glorified baby sitter now really. I don't mind though, Judith's cute and all, and Carol helps me out with her regularly.

After I'd gotten myself and the baby dressed and ready, we headed downstairs to the living quarters of the prison, everyone was already up and ready to begin the day, I handed Judith to a cooing Carol and sat down next to her. Sasha and Maggie were sharpening their knives on a large rock they'd brought in, Michonne was stood next to them, an air of impatience was drawn across her hard features. The three of them were on fence patrol today, or 'pest control' as Michonne called it Tyreese and Glenn were going out on a supply run, and Carol was looking after Judith for the afternoon whilst Carl and I helped Rick with the crops.

It was a beautiful day, the summer climate burning across the sparse Georgia landscape, the nights were shorter and the warm weather allowed for more refurbishments and crop growth, the conditions would make life considerably easier, at least for the time being. It was around midday when the group began their work for the day, everyone had parted ways as Carl and I headed towards the allotment with Rick to help plant the seeds that Daryl had salvaged on a previous trip out. Carl was squinting in the sunlight, even with his oversized cowboy hat nearly dropping over his eyes. He was grumbling to himself as he trudged along beside me, Rick was ahead of us – talking expressively about his plans for a pumpkin patch and maybe some pigs, he'd spotted a small farm-hold a few miles north and wanted to investigate and salvage whatever was left after he'd set up pens here. Once we'd arrived he started to draw squares in the dry dirt with a long stick, animatedly explaining to Carl and I what he wanted in each of them, a bundle of crumpled seed packets lay on the floor waiting to be planted, I'd noticed lettuce, carrots and cucumber amongst the mix. The whole world had become blood thirsty savages and we had become their herbivorous prey. Brilliant.

My concentration lacked today, I turned away from the conversation to give my watering eyes a break from the heavy sun rays. I scanned around the courtyard, I could spot the three women on walker patrol, their shouts echoed through the air as their blades pummelled into the walker's skulls, digging deep and sending the dead back to where they had came from. I watched them for a few moments, admiring their skill and courage, before glancing over at the guard towers, Andrea was in one of them, by the looks of it she was cleaning the guns fervently. She'd been different since Michonne had brought her back to the prison, it was a cold and miserable day when Carol had shouted that there was a hooded figure at the gates with armless walkers at her side, the men had thrown themselves into action, marching towards the gates. Astonishment had swept across the prison folk as Rick carried a sobbing Andrea through the doors, she was hysterical to be around those she had thought she lost. The hooded figure had revealed herself afterwards, she'd left her 'pet walkers' tied to a fence outside, she didn't speak much at first but after she explained what had happened with Andrea, and had proved herself to be a deadly aim with her prized katana, she was soon considered a strong ally to the prison group. Andrea however had taken a while to readjust, nowadays she kept her emotions hidden as she slowly recovered from her ordeal. Alone and weapon-less.

The other guard tower was occupied by Daryl, it had been two weeks since the incident on my birthday, I fingered the silver locket that hung around my neck gently as I thought about that night. He'd seemed so gentle, if only for a few moments but it was enough to let me know that he cared. We hadn't spoke much since then, it was almost if he was avoiding me; any eye contact was broken immediately and he gave the impression of being deeply uncomfortable whenever he was around me, but it was days like these when I spent time working outside that I felt his eyes bore into me from afar. I'd glanced over on occasion, his subtle observations of me had become more frequent and he'd nearly always turn sharply on his heel and moved to the other side of the tower if he'd seen me catch him staring. The heat of his gaze was ever intensifying, but he only ever watched from a distance, it was if he feared he'd get burnt if he got too close. I didn't look over to him this time though, I let him watch my every move as I worked in the scorching sunlight. I was glad I had some suitable attire for this weather, a short pair of white shorts and a baggy white vest was all I needed, and even then I could feel my skin peeling under the sun rays – my long hair tied in a loose ponytail, falling down my back.

That night Glenn and Tyreese had returned with a large stash of essentials, a vast array of tinned goods as well as some new bedding and clothing for us all. Glenn had squeezed through a small window in the side of a boarded-up shop and had retrieved bountiful and untouched goods from inside – the owner had obviously taken measures to ensure that his property wasn't touched by survivors or walkers, Glenn had said that the dust that had amounted on the inside indicated that the shop keeper hadn't returned. While everyone was sorting through the large pile of belongings, I noticed that one member of the group wasn't present. Daryl. I'd seen him come in, he must have stalked away into the darkness while everyone was distracted.

I changed Judith into some clean clothes, a long-sleeved white baby grow and some comfortable pink trousers. She'd began to fuss when I tried putting her into her crib so I stayed up for a few hours to try and settle her, but to no avail. Carol was outside with Sasha on guard duty and everyone else had gone to sleep, I was on my own with this one. Scrunching up her pretty little face she'd snuffled into my hair, I thought that a little walk around the prison might calm her down a bit. I clutched her to my chest and padded around the deserted halls and rooms, humming softly to her, it hadn't taken as long as expected before I felt her breathing regulate and her whimpering cease. I smiled and pressed a kiss into her silky brown hair.

As I began my ascent up the flight of stairs that separated the floor my bedroom was on, from ground floor I heard a soft cry. There was only a few people that stayed in cells on this level, I turned back and glanced through the nearest cell door – Tyreese's room. He was out on guard duty tonight though... I heard the noise again, this time slightly louder and with a hint of distress. I frowned and walked Judith back to our room, I placed her down in the crib gently and grabbed my cardigan, wrapping it around my suddenly chilled body, goose flesh prickling against my skin. I walked quietly down the walkway and stood silently, a few minutes had passed and the noise did not return. Maybe it was just an animal outside the window, a bat or something, I turned to leave but the noise broke the silence again, this time there was no denying the origin of it. I padded softly over to the other side of the narrow corridor and peeked my head around the wall – curiosity and concern had overwhelmed my initial reluctance. Grasping the handle of the door I edged it open slightly, there were soft strands of moonlight slipping through the barred window at the top of the room, settling across the tense body that lay in the bunk beneath. It was Daryl. His hardened body was wrapped up in the thin grey blanket, a sheen of sweat glistened over his skin – the moonlight illuminating the contours of his muscles. His arm jerked from under the pillow, grasping at the sheet. He looked trapped, his face was far from peaceful – his expression was distressed, his breathing heavy and rapid, the rise and fall of his chest growing ever quicker. Daryl's face contorted and he cried out again, a heart wrenching sob that shook his tense form.

I couldn't watch him like that, he looked so defenceless and scared – like a young child enduring a terrifying night terror. I couldn't abandon Daryl to suffer when he was in this state, gently I moved over to his side, lifting his heavy crossbow away from the edge of the bunk, I didn't want to startle him and cause an accident if he woke up. I reached out and brushed the strands of dark hair off his face gently, they felt thick and surprisingly soft as the strands ran through my fingers. I whispered his name, running a finger along the rough stubble that lined his cheek bones, I turned to listen for any noise from downstairs – concerned that Judith may have awoken when Daryl cried out again, this time it was loud and took me by surprise - I jumped, knocking against his chest with my elbow. Immediately his arms flung out and grabbed my shoulders in shock, calloused fingers digging into my flesh painfully. I looked down into his panic stricken eyes, confused and vulnerable.

A side of Daryl Dixon I had never seen before, and it broke my heart.


	4. Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors notes
> 
> Please be warned that this chapter contains explicit violence.
> 
> Thought I'd post this up before the weekend as I won't be home until Monday
> 
> Enjoy!

Daryl was running, his feet pounding against the loose asphalt path, his heart slammed against his ribcage and his long fringe whipped across his face. He gulped short breaths as his mouth went dry and his lungs burned. He watched Merle's form ahead of him. Taller. Stronger. Older. Faster. He didn't look back at his younger brother, didn't turn back to help him, just kept running; his blue shirt flapping wildly in the air.

Daryl could feel himself slowing down, his legs felt like they were going to buckle underneath him, muscles – raw and burning, his lungs felt charred. The pounding footsteps got louder...faster... closer... Daryl panicked and slipped on a loose piece of the road, his legs crumpled, slamming him against the floor, he felt the skin rip off his cheek as it was dragged across the asphalt, he could feel the wet warmth of blood spreading around his knees, elbows and the palms of his hands. He cried out as a forceful kick was delivered to the side of his ribcage, knocking the air out of him before he was yanked to his feet by his matted brown hair, he screamed and lashed out at his captor, he was met with a sharp punch to his cut cheek. The silhouette of Merle vanished down the empty road, he didn't turn back.

Daryl cried out. No-one could hear him.

He gave up...he couldn't do this...couldn't escape him.

He blinked, the world changing around him...they were in a house now, Merle was older...just before he went to prison, he had blood coming out of his mouth. Fear. Real fear reflected in his eyes. Nothing scared Merle. He was looking behind Daryl as he wiped away the blood with his forearm; spitting roughly on the ground. Merle was shouting at the person behind him, but Daryl couldn't hear... his ears were ringing, he felt shaky and dizzy... it took him a second to realize what had happened... a fist collided with the side of his head, Merle stared in horror at his little brother, shouting as he dropped to the floor. Everything went black.

Please make it stop. Please.

He opened his eyes again mere seconds later, and he was in his house again. Merle wasn't there... he was older now but his father still towered over him, he was sneering venom at Daryl, his face contorted in an unspeakable rage. Panic hit Daryl as he took in his surroundings...the situation... his father's face, he realized what was going to happen, it was today. He remembered...this is a dream...wake up.

No, please. Please wake up.

His father had one arm pressed against Daryl's neck, practically choking him, still spitting in his face with every poisonous word, he breath reeked of moonshine and cigarettes. He gripped Daryl's throat, digging into his soft flesh with his jagged fingernails.

Daryl cried out in pain. Make it stop.

He felt his father's hands on him now, the sickening feeling of his rough, calloused skin trying to squeeze the life out of him. His feet left the ground and he was smashed face first into the wall, his lip splitting open from the force. He choked a cry, struggling from his dad's vice grip. Above the noise Daryl heard the click. That sound haunted him. His heart pounded against his ribcage, fear filling every atom of his being. A sharp rip tore his shirt from his back, the dirty fabric fell against the back of Daryl's legs as it crumpled to the floor.

"D'ya know wha' this is boy?" the voice sneered.

No. This can't be happening...this is a dream wake up.

The side of the cold blade ran slowly across the skin between his shoulder blades, Daryl screamed in agony as the blade tore across his skin, ripping the flesh apart. Again and again.

This is too real, this can't be a dream. This isn't happening. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up

Daryl

His eyes bolted open as the sleep-induced paralysis was ripped away from him, he felt his fingers digging into soft flesh. His vision began to focus, heart still hammering in his chest and the sweat covering his body chilled him to the bone. A figure swam into his conciousness as his eyes locked on a pair of terrified blue eyes, they stared down at him. It was Beth. It was a dream. A noise left his throat that he had never heard before, a mix of anguish and relief – unspeakable relief at being safe.

"Daryl," She whispered, his eyes had been fixated on hers since they opened, she'd never seen them so fearful.

Emotion overwhelmed him, using his grasp on her shoulders he pulled her down into his arms, her face warm and alive against the cold skin of his shoulder as he clutched her to his chest, sobs racked against her as his walls came crashing down around him.

"What happened? I heard you crying out, I had to wake you up," She murmured, pulling away from the embrace, leaning on her elbow and looking down into his confused eyes.

It was her. She woke him up. She saved him. Another pitiful noise escaped his throat, acting on utter instinct, without a second thought or time to consider the implications of what he was about to do, his hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her soft lips against his.


	5. Nothin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors notes
> 
> Sorry for the slightly delayed update! The next chapter will be a real long one, but it'll be posted by the end of the week hopefully. Thank you for all of the reviews, favourites and followers! Appreciate it. Hope you enjoy this chapter.

Beth gasped in surprise as Daryl's lips pressed against hers, she reached out an arm to support herself, but his grip on her did not falter, one arm had snaked around her waist while the other was caressing the back of her neck, his fingertips brushing against her hairline. Beth began to respond to his touch – running the tip of her tongue against his bottom lip, seeking access. The sensation was like electricity, it had invaded the air as the kiss began to deepen. Time felt like it had stopped in that moment, she felt weightless as they softly kissed.

"Ahem," the noise distracted her and she squeaked in surprise as she was suddenly pushed away from the embrace, her back hit the metal frame as Daryl bolted upright, his eyes fixated on the doorway. Michonne was stood there, her eyes were locked with Daryl's in a cold stare.

"You asked me to wake you up for our watch tonight. Daryl. Seems I had a wasted journey,"

Wordlessly Beth flew up from the bed, avoiding eye contact with both parties, leaving the room hastily without looking back. As soon as Beth was out of earshot, Michonne's stare intensified; her eyes filled with anger, she leaned against the doorway, her arms folded across her chest. "Gon' tell me what in the hell that was?"

"Nothin'," Daryl hissed back, throwing the sheet back and fumbling for his boots, not bothering to tie them up properly, he slung his jacket on and grabbed his crossbow. Michonne's arm moved to stop him moving, her controlled and slightly disturbing stare made him uneasy, preventing him from shoving her out of the way to escape.

"That your final answer?"

"Yes," the anger boiled in his blood, he needed to get out of this cell and away from her. Away from Michonne and the inevitable interrogation he was about to endure.

Her arm bolted back down to her side, Daryl stormed past her and made a beeline for the exit of the prison, he needed some air; the events of the last few minutes threatened to choke him.

"I'll hold 'ya to that," She shouted after him.

The cold rush of the night hit Daryl's face as the doors opened, he gulped and ran a hand through his damp, matted hair. The sweat that formed a sheen across his skin cooled instantly, he shivered as he paced towards the tower, glancing up he saw the current occupant. Maggie. Shit. Why did it have to be her? Just been caught kissing her little sister and now he has to act like everything's fine. A hand grabbed his arm, he swung around to the owner; Michonne's steely gaze met his, but this time she hissed at him before he had the chance to retaliate.

"Stay away from her Daryl, she's a kid and you got no right messing with her head like that,"

"Git off'a me," He snarled, snatching his arm out of her grasp and storming away towards the tower, he didn't look back but she didn't make any attempt to stop him again. His heart pounded in his chest and dizziness threatened to overwhelm him.

Luckily Maggie left without any questions, she had seen his argument with Michonne but hadn't heard anything, she thanked him for taking over; receiving a grunt in response. She looked tired and obviously didn't want to intrude, if Daryl's facial expression said anything at all, then it'd be 'don't fucking ask,' he gripped the railing as she descended the metal steps and headed towards the entrance of the prison. He grappled with his cigarette packet from the pocket of his trousers, his shaky hand struggled to light the item with his temperamental matches. Taking a deep inhale of smoke, the open cigarette packet slipped from his grasp and tumbled over the edge of the railing. Swearing loudly, he slumped down against the floor – defeated.

What had he done? She woke him up from a fucking nightmare and he kissed her. His punishing thoughts ran amok inside his head as he struggled to come to terms with the events that had just disastrously unfolded. Daryl couldn't let himself succumb to actions like these, he couldn't think of Beth in that way, Michonne was right she was just a kid. Barely an adult. He took advantage of her because of a stupid dream. They had been caught, what if Michonne told someone? She was angry enough at him, he dreaded to think the reactions of the rest of the group if they knew what he'd done. Nausea crept up, he felt like a dirty old man. Leaning his head back against a metal panel, he shut his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Daryl?" a voice murmured quietly in the darkness.

His eyes shot open, Beth swam into focus. Where had she come from? Jumping to his feet, he darted away from her; knuckles turning white as he gripped the metal railing in frustration.

"Daryl, I..."

"Was a mistake," He hissed before she could finish her sentence, "Don't wanna hear what ya' gotta say,"

She didn't respond, simply fleeing the watch tower as his words ripped into her. The sinking feeling in her chest overwhelmed her as the sobs racked her fragile body, feet pounding against the hard floor as the tears misted her vision and ran down her pale cheeks. She was an idiot, he didn't want her.

Daryl began to pace the walkway of the tower, guilt overwhelmed him; he didn't look at her until he caught a glimpse of her vanishing through the prison doors, he didn't need to look to see her pained expression, he hadn't meant to sound so harsh. He began to curse under his breath as he tried in vain to convince himself that the feelings weren't there. Daryl's foot kicked against something on the grating. His cigarettes. She'd picked them up from the ground before she came up. How long had she been there? Had she seen his row with Michonne? Fuck. She'd gotten under his skin and now it threatened to tear them both apart.


	6. Gone

Two weeks had passed since Michonne had caught Beth and Daryl kissing in the dead of night, she'd expected more of a fight out of the red-neck, his defiance was frustrating at the best of times, but since her warning for him to stay away from the young blonde, he'd accepted it and point blank avoided her. Michonne felt a shot of guilt when she could see the confusion in the girl's eyes when Daryl began to act like a stranger – avoiding her gaze and all conversation; any words directed at her were blunt and unfriendly. She felt bad about it briefly, but Daryl was playing with fire and it was easier to extinguishes the blames before it burnt them both. 

Besides, she needed Daryl to be focused for the next few days, Rick had organized a big run to bulk together a large amount of supplies; winter was drawing in and they needed to be prepared for the harsh freeze of the prison during the coming months. He'd taken Michonne aside a day previously to explain the plan, he said that he needed her Daryl to assist him, he was unsure of who would be staying at the prison, but he mentioned he wanted her to train up one of the younger ones during the trip. Carl was already becoming a good shot since Daryl began to tutor him with his cross bow and a pistol, which left the only other option as being Beth. She hoped it wasn't. Couldn't risk her moping around and fucking up, this trip was too important.

Michonne made her way to the living quarters ,as she entered she saw all of the prison group standing around and chatting – awaiting Rick's arrival. Dropping down on one of the metal chairs, she sighed and let her thoughts wander. She'd been worried about this run – becoming closer to folk here had made her more fearful that their happy demeanour was about to be ripped apart. It's why she was worried about Daryl sniffing around the pretty, young blonde. She'd never admit it, but she knew that at the end of it all – on humanity's extinction day, he'd be the last man standing – firing his last bullets at the burning earth, using his last breath to take a drag of a cigarette. Michonne had lost others in the past; before the dead started to walk, her mother had died six years previously. But death back then was mourned – periods of grieving and memories shared, but back then you knew your loved one was at peace. However, in the world right now it's more bloody – shredding tooth and claw – if you weren't quick enough then you'd have to brutally end the snarling existence of what used to be your mom, your lover, your son. Humanity had become brutality. Fight the dead and fear the living.

“G'mornin' y'all,” Rick's cheerful voice snapped Michonne away from her thoughts. “Now as y'all know, it's gon' be real cold soon, and we need to collect a large amount of supplies to last us out. Can't be riskin' goin' out too much with the icy roads, and y'all ain't walkin' in it either. We need ammo as well as food and other essentials. Daryl scoped out a untouched store with gun's an' all a few weeks back, we're gon' need three vehicles to pull this off,”

“How long are we gonna be out there for?” Carol's voice piped up from the back of the room.

“Today'll be for travellin', then you'll camp the night, gather supplies t' next day and then drive back here,” Rick replied.

“Who's goin'?” Glenn said, he was learning against the metal table, arm around Maggie.

“The folk goin' are gon' be paired up in each vehicle so y'all can swap driving. Michonne and I will be in one car, Glenn and Sasha in another, and then Daryl and Beth. We'll be leavin' at noon,” Rick smiled before gesturing to Michonne to follow him, she inwardly sighed and tried not to glare at him. He was oblivious to the hassle he was gonna cause.

-.-

Daryl's heart thudded in his chest as he threw his rucksack into the back of the grey truck, he'd loitered in his cell for as long as possible, repacking his bag and fixing together some extra bolts. He didn't want to face her anyway, he’d spent the last few weeks being hostile towards her, it took her a few days to get the hint, he'd felt an unfamiliar sinking in his chest as he watched the penny drop. She'd tried to hug him after he'd hurt his arm on a formula run with Carl, he'd pushed her away rough;y and briskly retreated towards his motorcycle. Beth hadn't tried interacting with him since, the feeling of her gaze settling on him made Daryl feel nervous but he knew he was doing the right thing. 'Least he hoped so.

“Right y'all. Daryl knows the way there, so our cars,” Rick gestured to Michonne, Sasha and Glenn, “Will just follow 'em until we need t'rest,”

“Where is it, that we're actually going?” Sasha narrowed her eyes.

Daryl pulled a map out of the back of the jeep and flattened it against the bonnet, “Here,” He said, pointing to a relatively spare area, the group peered down at the map, “Just west of Scotsboro, we're gon' stay up outta the way, and travel back down to stock up in the city t'mora,” 

Everyone said their goodbyes, Daryl had kissed baby Judith's head and nodded at any folk that met his eye as he slunk away to the jeep. The passenger door opened not long after Daryl slammed his shut, he glanced at Beth as she hopped up into the seat, dropping her bag in the back. She smiled hesitantly at him, tugging at the sleeves on her jacket. 

“I'm gon' drive about two and a half hours, then we're gon' switch,” He grumbled as the engine spluttered into life. 

Beth felt hazy as she began to swim into consciousness; her head resting on the car door, the gentle warmth of the fading midday Georgia sun was beaming down on her through the window. The jeep jolted sharply as it hit a small rock in the road, she was startled awake – blinking the last glimmers of sleep away, she looked across at Daryl, “It is my turn now?” her voice crackled slightly.

“Naw, we're nearly there,” 

“What?” Beth's eyebrows crumpled in a frown, “Y'said we had at least 3 hours of travellin',”

“Yeah, and you were sleepin',” Daryl retorted.

“Y'should have woke me up,” 

“Didn't wanna, 'ya looked...” Daryl's voice trailed off, a slight blush stippling across his cheekbones.

Beth smiled slightly, silence lingered in the uncomfortable atmosphere between the two, she took a shaky breath before piping up, “Why've you been avoidin' me?” 

Daryl's body tensed up evidently at her question, he began to nibble at the tip of his thumb, his eyes flicking quickly between her and the road ahead. The awkward tension hung in the air as the jeep travelled further up the long winding roads.

“If Michonne didn't...” Beth began.

“Don't,” Daryl murmured, “Can't happen,”

“But...”

“Can't let myself feel that way about ya',”

The brakes slammed hard as the jeep stopped hastily in the road, Daryl immediately jumped out of the vehicle and slammed the door hard behind him, Beth sat in silence staring ahead of her. What did he mean 'feel that way'? Was he avoiding her because he liked her? Shit. Beth thought he'd make an excuse about thinkin' she was Carol or that he was lit, not that he might actually want her.

She jumped as Rick banged on her window, “C'mon Beth,” 

Hauling her rucksack out of the back seat, Beth hopped onto the dusty ground; narrowing her eyes and glancing around at the scenery, they were in a sparse wooded area with a long, winding road disappearing amongst the tall trees. Daryl was already at Michonne's side poring over a large map with her, quiet conversation ensuing between them.

Their chosen camp-site was located after a mile or so, Beth was glad to unload her equipment, her shoulders were aching from the heavy bag she carried. Everyone was loaded up like a mule with weaponry and essentials for the night ahead, the sun was beginning to stain the sky purple and orange as it began to set down on the horizon, they needed to set up camp and catch dinner before nightfall.

Glenn fixed up a fire amongst the dry foliage and began to pitch the tents with Sasha, they were talking about the odds of finding good chocolate in the store the next day, their quiet laughter echoed in the cool air. Michonne was sharpening her katana on a stone, she was sitting opposite to Beth on logs by the fire, the blonde girl's eyes were fixated on the crackling orange of the dry wood and kindling as it flickered in the flames. 

“Beth,” Rick called, she looked up from the fire at the older man, “I want you to go huntin' with Daryl, we don't need much, but we're nearly done here now,”

“Uh... okay,” Beth's eyes flicked across to Daryl, Michonne was stared hard at him as he mouthed something to her, his shoulders shrugged heavily as he gestured with his hands.

“I'll go, I'm not doin' nothin',” Michonne spoke up, her eyes not leaving Daryl.

“Naw, I need you here to go over tomorrow's plan,” Rick dismissed her request as he began to rifle through his rucksack, Michonne tore her gaze away from Daryl and focused on sharpening her blade more vigorously against the stone.

“C'mon,” Daryl growled, swinging his cross bow over his shoulder and lurking off into the trees.

Beth grabbed her knife and picked her way through the sparse brush to his side, after a few moments he hushed her with his hand as he caught the trail of a deer. The tracks seemed to go for miles, the dusk beginning to set in and the darkness crept into the forest. The tension hung in the air as a small buck came into view, it was grazing on a low-hanging bush, it seemed unaware to their presence. Daryl lifted his bow and aimed at the animal, a crack echoed out startling the deer, it turned and bounced away through the brush, Daryl fired an arrow but it impaled into a small tree – the deer was gone.

“Fucks sake Beth,” Daryl snapped.

“That wasn't me, I've been still. You stepped on the twig,” Beth retorted defensively, she'd been motionless since the deer came into view.

“Yeah right. 'Course,”

“Fuck you, y'can't keep taking everythin' out on me just because you kissed me,” Beth spat, Daryl flung around and stared at her, his jaw was tense and his eyes ablaze.

“How many times have I gotta tell 'ya? I don't want 'ya Beth,” Daryl growled, “You're just some fuckin' kid, if Michonne hadn'ta walked in then I would'a still pushed 'ya off'a me. I don't want 'ya, now fuck off,”

Beth's heart dropped as tears misted in her eyes, she wouldn't let him see her cry. Fucking asshole. “Fine,” She choked, turning on her heels and sprinting off into the trees, the branches swiped against her arms as she hurtled through the undergrowth, not wanting to stop, not wanting him to catch up. She just wanted to get back to camp, where she could get away from him for a few hours. Suddenly all of the air was knocked out of her, her head smacked against the ground with force, ears ringing – she managed to turn her head to the side slightly, a unfamiliar figure came into view as everything went black.

 

Fuck. Why had she ran off? Daryl's thoughts were racing as he began to pick through the woods, she knew the goddamn risks, what if there were walkers out here? Stupid girl. He shouldn't have said that, he didn't want to upset her. But it couldn't happen, it was wrong. It was wrong that his stomach fluttered when he saw her, his mouth drying up when he had to speak to her. The thoughts that wandered into his mind when he was alone in his cell were wrong. He wanted her and he couldn't have her. Fuck where was she? Daryl ground to a halt as Beth's tracks went dead, a large scuffle had occurred in the dirt, she'd fallen whilst running. But where was she? No blood, no drag marks – she'd just vanished. Daryl's head span as his eyes flicked around the undergrowth. It was dark, they were in an unknown area, and she was gone.

“Beth?” He shouted desperately, “Beth, where are you?!”


	7. Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one night?! Hope y'all like it

Daryl's mouth felt as though it had filled with sand as panic began to set it, he swung around – staring hard at the motionless foliage around him, searching for any indication of Beth's whereabouts. His hands shook as he pulled his crossbow down into his arms, clutching at the weapon he crept forward to examine where her tracks stopped dead, crouching down he poked at the scuffle marks with a small twig, a glint caught his eye and turning he saw Beth's small knife lying a few feet away from where he was, nearly falling over in his haste to reach the item he noticed the heavy footprints that were dug into the soil, Daryl scrambled to his feet and staggered to the tracks. His heart was in his mouth; Beth had been taken, retching at the thought of Beth scared and alone; at the mercy of someone dangerous made him feel sick. Slipping her little knife into his pocket, he took off in the direction of her abductors.

.-.

Rick prodded at the fire, causing small embers to rush up into the night air. "They've been a long time," He frowned.

Sasha, Glenn and Michonne were all sat around the fire on the wide logs, the silence lingered in the air as they all inwardly agreed with Rick's remark, Daryl and Beth had been gone hours. Surely it didn't take that long to catch a few squirrels or rabbits? Especially at night. Daryl was usually back before night fall, they'd seen him bring back fully grown deer before now - deer that he'd stumbled clumsily through the gates with, and still have them gutted and ready to cook before the stars came into view. Now though, the four of them were tired and hungry, and long after the stars shone through the thick blackness of the night, they had started to worry.

"I'm gonna go look for 'em in a minute," Michonne said quietly, her fingers playing along the handle of her katana, "They might be in trouble,"

Glenn glanced at Rick as he paced the campsite, "Daryl can handle himself, they'll be fine," His voice wavered with uncertainty.

"What if it's not Daryl in trouble?" Sasha murmured, she'd pulled her knees to her chest and stared intently at the burning embers as they escaped the fire and sizzled out.

Michonne's head jerked up, she stared at Sasha before turning to Rick, "I have to go find 'em,"

Rick smiled sadly at her, "G'wan then, be careful" picking up her sword, Michonne disappeared into the thick woods silently.

"I'll be back in a second," Sasha said, getting up and heading out towards the undergrowth, she needed to pee badly, her bladder was pressing against the band of her trousers and causing her discomfort. She hadn't wanted to get up and move whilst they were waiting for Daryl and Beth, she hated to admit to herself that she was freaked out about the pair not returning from a simple hunt. These were unfamiliar grounds they were treading, she needed Tyreese's pigeon instinct and reassurance to calm her down.

Squatting down, she fumbled with the button of her trousers in the darkness, her fingers clumsy as she wobbled on the balls of her feet. A leaf crumpled behind her, she fell back as two pairs of heavy hands grabbed her in the darkness, she managed a short scream before the calloused flesh silenced her. Sasha's attackers pulled her to her feet by her hair, one of them restraining her flailing hands, and other grabbing for her trousers, Sasha panicked; lashing out wildly, a vain attempt to shake them off. These weren't walkers. A loud swish cut through the air as Sasha and the two men fell to the floor in a crumpled heap of blood, one of them knocked the wind out of her as he landed heavily on her chest, she tried to let out a scream but she was hushed by another hand.

"Sasha, it's me, don't scream," Michonne's breath tickled her ear, "Where are the others?" Sasha let out a sob against Michonne's hand and pointed in the direction of camp, "Come on, it's alright,"

Pulling her up from the floor Michonne wrapped a arm around the trembling woman's waist, holding her upright as they stumbled back to the campsite.

Daryl hurled himself through the trees, his heart thudded against his ribs and his throat burned. His feet pounded against the soft soil and heavy undergrowth, barely avoiding the sharp branches that tore against his skin, his legs gave way as his feet collided with a large object in the fauna, Daryl's body slammed into the soil, immediately he scrambled to his feet; knife out ready to attack the potential threat. His heart dropped as he saw the crumpled body lying in the leaves. Beth. Dropping to his knees on the floor next to her, he frantically searched for a pulse. She was alive.

"Beth?" Daryl said gently, his voice cracking, "Beth, wake up,"

He clutched her into his lap, brushing her hair out of her bloodied face with her fingertips to assess the damage. Beth's lip was split and her face was covered in bruises, her clothes were torn badly – her tshirt in tatters around her torso, her lace bra was ripped apart and nasty bruises stood out harshly around the pale skin. Daryl nearly retched again.

"Daryl?" Beth's voice croaked, he stared down at her; lifting her up slightly, "Wha' happened?"

"Hey, it's okay," Daryl whispered, rocking her gently, "You were attacked, but I'm here now,"

Beth's eyes flickered open, meeting Daryl's scared gaze, she winced as the pain in her legs flooded to her senses.

"M'sorry, I fell over 'ya," Beth managed a small laugh at his retort, "C'mon, let's get 'ya up," Daryl pulled her to her feet, holding onto her tightly in case her legs gave way, "Y'alright?"

She nodded uncertainly, looking up at him, "M'sorry I ran away," she winced again as she put weight on her legs.

"S'fine," Daryl mumbled, his trembling hand reaching up to touch her cheek; emotion threatening to overspill, without thinking, he ducked his head down and pressed his lips against hers. Beth's little hands grabbed into his shirt as she tentatively responded to his kiss, his arms wrapped gently around her waist as he pulled her closer. Daryl pulled away from the kiss reluctantly, staring down into Beth's equally confused eyes; his arms not loosening around her, his forehead rested against hers.

The sound of cracking branches behind them caused Daryl to clutch Beth to his chest and swing his cross bow in the direction of the noise, he lowered his weapon slowly as the silhouette of Michonne appeared through the thick trees. Beth turned around in Daryl's arms to see who it was, she managed a weak smile at the older girl, Michonne took in her appearance; bloodied and torn clothing, her pale face bruised and cut. Daryl looked terrified, an expression the woman had rarely seen haunt his sharp features. Her eyes flicked up to his, "They got Sasha too," her voice was morose, "I got 'em before they could do any real damage,"

Daryl nodded at her, their expressions emotionless as the potential severity of the situation hung in the air, Michonne moved to support Beth as the three of them began the wary walk back to camp.

-.-

Sasha's shoulder's quivered as Rick tried to reassure her, he had his arm around her and was whispering words of comfort to her, she sniffed and nodded as he spoke. Glenn traced the perimeter of the campsite, he had been shaken up when Michonne pulled Sasha's trembling form back through the woods. It had been at least another hour since she'd vanished off into the trees in the hunt of Beth and Daryl. What if those men had got to them before they'd attacked Sasha? He'd panicked and began pacing the campsite, anxiously awaiting their friend's return. The sound of breaking twigs and leaves spooked Glenn, he swung his gun up at arms length, it shook in his hands as he pointed it towards the location of the sound, he exhaled sharply as Michonne, Daryl and Beth stumbled through the undergrowth.

"What happens?!" Rick exclaimed, rushing to the trio's assistance.

"Same guys that attacked Sasha," Michonne said gravely, "Can't do no more damage now though,"

Rick grimaced as Daryl began to attend to Beth's injuries, "We have some tinned food in the bags somewhere, as long as we hunt t'morra then we'll be fine,"

Daryl nodded appreciatively at the man, Rick turned away and began to rummage through his large rucksack, pulling out several silver tins and a knife. Beth squirmed as Daryl wiped her face with a rag; trying to gently remove the dried blood, her eyes watched his face as he concentrated intently, making sure that he didn't make her cuts bleed again.

"Daryl," She whispered, he stopped his ministrations and slowly looked down at her, their eyes locking in silence. His gaze was confused and wary, he didn't make any move to speak, just stared into her eyes. Beth didn't make a sound, worried that if she did then he'd scramble away like a frightened animal.

Rick's voice interrupted the moment, "We gots some canned food, we'll eat that now and then y'all better go to sleep; stay in your pairs, we need to keep safe,"

The group ate their meals in silence, Rick was taking up the first guard duty with Michonne and one by one they began to retreat to their tents for the night, it had been a stressful and long one. They'd be happy leaving this place in the morning, they'd get their goods and head back to the prison.

Beth tossed and turned in her sleeping back, the cold nights air had crept into the thin tarpaulin and chilled her to the bone, it had been a few hours since she'd finished her can of tinned spaghetti and hobbled over to her tent. She listened to the quiet noises outside of her tent, hushed conversation between Rick and Michonne could just be about heard in the stillness, they'd still be on guard for at least another hour or so, Glenn and Sasha were up next; so she'd need to get some sleep soon before it was her and Daryl's turn, they had a busy day tomorrow and they couldn't afford for her to be a tired burden on them all. Beth squeezed her eyes together and tried to induce slumber, but to no avail. Her body ached like nothin' else, Rick had given her one of his spare shirts to wear after hers had been destroyed, the scratchy material was cool against her chest. She could hear a scratching outside the tent, she knew Daryl was sat outside – he hadn't come in at all since she'd zipped up the exterior. Maybe he was avoiding her, after all he'd only gone and kissed her again; after telling her it was a mistake hours earlier. Her heart fluttered at the memory of his surprisingly soft lips moving against hers, she didn't think there was a gentle side to Daryl Dixon, he was the rough-around-the-edges redneck with a harsh temper, but that opinion faltered when he'd gazed into her eyes, his timid expression burned on the inside of her eyelids – nobody had ever looked at her like that before.

"Daryl?" Beth whispered, biting her lip. "C'mere," She heard the rustling outside stop for a moment. "Please?"

The zipper on the tent slowly came apart as Daryl's face came into view, "Wha's up?" concern was etched on his features.

"I can't sleep," Her voice sounded more pitiful that originally intended.

His lips pursed together as he hesitated in the doorway.

"Come inside now?"

After a few moments Daryl slowly climbed into the tent, trying not to attract too much attention from Rick and Michonne – they were too busy in conversation to hear him anyways. Pulling the zipper back up, he sat awkwardly in the corner of the low-hung shelter. Beth gestured to the spot next to her, he sighed and looked at her, "Beth..." He began.

"Don't," She whispered, "Stop thinkin' about it,"

Daryl visibly shook as he lay down next to the young blonde, wrapping an arm around her hesitantly, he'd seen a goddamn chupacabra and fought countless walkers, but lying next to a woman terrified him. Goddammit Daryl, pull yourself together. Beth snuggled up into his side, clutching a handful of his shirt with her tiny hand; her eyes flickered shut as the warmth of their bodies lulled her to sleep. Her breathing started to regulate, soft and shallow against Daryl's chest; he lifted his head slightly to see if her eyes were closed, sighing he pressed a kiss into her hair and joined her in a peaceful slumber.


	8. Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say something, I'm giving up on you  
> I'll be the one, if you want me to 
> 
> Say Something – A Great Big World

Michonne's eyes darted around the camp-site as the sun began to illuminate the horizon, the night was a peaceful one; not a walker in sight and no unwelcome intrusions – it seemed the two men that had attacked the girls had been alone; out in the uninhibited wilderness. Michonne noticed that Sasha was still shaken up, she'd accompanied the girl on several toilet breaks throughout the night; she'd catch Michonne's eye and they'd walk silently into the undergrowth, her eyes were still fearful and her skittish demeanour hadn't faltered. Sasha had been awake for a few hours now, she was picking at a tin of baked beans with Glenn opposite the dwindling camp fire. Rick had set a makeshift trap a hundred meters or so outside of the camp, and had returned mere moments ago; clumsily stomping through the fauna waving a small rabbit in the air victoriously, the giddy grin on his face made Michonne smile. Glancing around, she frowned slightly. Daryl and Beth still hadn't gotten up; she was annoyed that she and Rick had to cover their guard shift during the night, Michonne had gone to wake them after her shift was over, but after unzipping their tent and peering inside at the pair; limbs tangled, no sleeping bag, and in a compromising position, she'd decided against waking them. She trailed a bullshit excuse to Rick and slumped back down on the log for another few hours until it was Sasha and Glenn's turn. She'd hoped that Beth and Daryl would wake of their own accord to avoid the inevitable embarrassment on both sides. Michonne didn't know what she'd say when the pair would startle awake by her presence. She couldn't let the others see them in their tent or a heated discussion would ensue about just what was going on. Just what was going on was another thing Michonne didn't know. Sighing; she peered hopefully at the unmoving tent – no noise, no rustling, blissful silence. Narrowing her eyes, she glanced over at the other three; bustling around the fire that Sasha had re-built to cook the rabbit. Taking advantage of their distractions, she got up and toed over to Daryl and Beth's tent.

Daryl awoke slowly, the heat of the closed tent was stifling, the sun rested on the tarpaulin. It was morning, they hadn't done their shift? He was confused. Daryl tried to move him arm, his barely conscious state hadn't taken in the situation he was in – remembering slowly, he opened his eyes. Beth was curled up on his chest, their legs were intertwined and Daryl's arms were wrapped tightly around the sleeping girl, she'd come out of the bag at some point in the night to get closer to Daryl's body. He blushed as the memories of the previous day flooded into his memory like a dusty slide show. He'd kissed her. The memory caused a slight tingle in his chest as he resisted the urge to repeat the action, his face was pressed lightly into her hair as she clung to him.

“You awake?” Beth's soft voice broke the silence. She pulled back slightly and gazed up into Daryl's sleepy eyes, she smiled gently at him; returning it, his eyes flicked down to her small pink lips – there was no use trying to hide it now, no matter how hard he tried. It was just a kiss though right? He tilted her chin up lightly with his fingers and pressed his lips into hers once more.

Michonne's hand thumped repeatedly against the side of their tent, she stood; her eyes still darting around to observe the rest of the group. Glenn and Sasha were disassembling their shelter and Rick was crouched over the dead rabbit – presumably trying to figure out how to skin it.

“Wha?” Daryl's voice groaned from inside, his arm swung out and hit into Michonne's thigh.

“Don't you hit me. Now get up,” Michonne hissed, smacking the tent again in defiance. She heard rustling from inside the tarpaulin, a small cough and whispers as Daryl fumbled his way to the 

“Wha time is it?” He yawned, unzipping the tent slightly from the inside, and peering one eye out at Michonne. She glared at him.

“About time that you stop two missin' your shifts and curling around each other like a pair of cold kittens,” Michonne's voice was low. “Y'both lucky that it was only me that looked in your tent. People would start askin' questions, not that there's much to question,”

Daryl's sleepy eye widened and he zipped the tent back hastily, Michonne smacked the fabric again in frustration before stalking away towards the camp fire to help Rick with the cooking.

~.~

“Shit,” Daryl turned to Beth, he ran his hand through his thick hair; slumping against the floor.

“What's wrong?” She frowned, pulling herself up to a sitting position.

“Michonne came t'wake us up for our shift and she saw us cuddlin' an' all,” Daryl mumbled.

Beth laughed softly, “It's fine, Michonne won't tell no-one,”

Daryl sighed loudly, reaching across the floor to grab his boots; he pulled them on and tied the laces hastily, “She said to me not t' talk to ya' after she saw us kissin'”

“That's why you avoided me?” Beth's voice sounded hurt, her question was more a statement; she tried to process his words in her head, “Daryl, I...”

“It don't matter,” he muttered, before she could respond Daryl unzipped the tent door and climbed out without looking back.

Beth spent another half an hour or so curled up in her sleeping bag, her hair was splayed out on the pillow she'd made out of her jacket; not that it had much use the night before. She'd drifted off with her head on Daryl's chest; his fingertips trailing across her back, the gentle lull of his heartbeat singing her to sleep. Now he was gone. He left as soon as Michonne had interfered, Beth felt a shot of anger at that thought – why was she breathing down his neck about this? She pulled herself up from the floor and tugged on her shoes. Time to get some answers.

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip nervously as he showed Rick how to skin the rabbit, the man had cut of the ears and tail but hadn't done much else – to the amusement of Glenn and Michonne, who stood observing Rick's fumbling attempts at preparing the dead animal. Daryl had left Beth alone in the tent – stormed off without a word, he couldn't look her in the eye after last night; after kissing her, waking up in her arms. What was he? Stupid? He could barely think of the reaction of the rest of the group if Michonne did actually tell someone; Hershel would skin him alive, he'd either get a few stern words from Rick; or receive his left hook, Carol would be hurt, Maggie would be furious. The list just went on and on – the possibilities of the fall out from all of this wasn't worth thinking about. He couldn't do this any more, he just had to pretend none of this ever happened. Daryl could hear Merle's voice in his head – mocking him, taunting him. His words tearing through Daryl's mind like poison; 'Dickless Darlina... didn't know 'ya liked the lil ones'

He growled and kicked the ground angrily, Rick jumped slightly at Daryl's outburst, “Y'alright brother?” 

Daryl grunted in response, he was met with wary glances off the rest of the group, his eyes were fixated on impaling the dead rabbit onto a branch to cook. He could feel the anger and disgust building up inside him like a sickness, trying desperately to bury any feelings for the young blonde under the years of walls and barriers he had built up inside his heart – pushing her as far as she could go, he ached to go back inside the tent and hold her close, but he couldn't risk loosing everything. 

“Michonne, can we talk?” Beth's voice made him jump, his head jerked around to see the two women walking to the edge of the camp site, his eyes bored into them – trying in vain to hear what they were talking about. Michonne's face was expressionless, but Beth's was a mixture of hurt and anger, the older woman tried putting a hand on her shoulder but it was shrugged off. Michonne waved her hands up in frustration before turning on her heels and walking back towards the group; Beth reluctantly followed, her arms folded over her chest. Daryl's head snapped back to the rabbit before they noticed he was watching; a deep blush spread across his cheeks.

“Right y'all we gotta get movin' after we've eaten, has everyone got their lists?” Rick drawled.

The group nodded in unison; Rick's voice trailed off in Daryl's head, his self-hating thoughts were eating him alive - Merle's taunting voice made him feel sick. He was kicking at the floor with his boot; rustling the leaves that littered the ground, he could feel Beth's eyes on him from the other side of the camp. Daryl felt a pang of guilt for her, she was just a kid; he winced at that thought, she wasn't a kid – she was just far too young for him. He couldn't let his guard down around her, no matter how he felt. Daryl had never let anyone close to him, no woman – not ever, and now if he let his guard down he could risk her dying in his arms, a split second without complete focus and it could all be over. It was better off that they were apart.


	9. Realization

The highway felt as though it went on for miles, the wilderness speeding past like an errant locomotive. The forests had long since disappeared and had been replaced with the dusty roads of the uninhabited landscape. The jeep window was open slightly and was making Beth's hair swish gently in the breeze, the sun was blazing down over Scottsboro but the air still had a chill to it, she glanced down at the list that Rick had drawn up for herself and Daryl; everything he had written was essential for their survival in the coming months. Daryl had said that the store had been boarded up entirely – the owner obviously had wanted his goods to be protected from the looters. Nobody had expected it to be this bad, Daryl had joked to Michonne that the town was so desolate that he'd half-expected tumble-weed to blow down the streets like in some old cowboy movie.

Beth glanced across at the man in question, he was biting on the tip of his thumb; his eyes focused on the never-ending road ahead of them, he had barely spoken to her since he'd left the tent; Glenn had helped Beth to pull it down – chattering away absent-mindedly whilst the others cooked the scrawny rabbit. She'd wrinkled her nose at the near-charred flesh of the animal, if she'd never have to eat another rabbit again then it'd still be too soon, she missed salt popcorn and orange soda.

Beth had tried to speak to Michonne; practically begging her to leave Daryl alone – to let them be happy together, but she'd said that Beth was playing with fire and that she was too young for him. That it wasn't any of her business, but not to go crying to her when it all went wrong. Beth had cried, she wasn't sure if it was out of frustration or anger. Probably both. Beth had swallowed her pride and accepted the woman's words of advice, maybe pursuing Daryl was a mistake. After all he'd just ran away from her like a frightened animal whenever she had gotten too close.

The barren landscape of Scottsboro appeared over the horizon, the streets were hauntingly devoid of life, the asphalt strewn with litter and smashed cars; the windows on the small buildings were boarded up and isolated. The group's vehicles came to stop in front of a small convenience store, wood was nailed across the doors and windows.

"Is this it?" Beth murmured, peering at some of the red graffiti that was painted across the planks – 'welcome to hell'

"Yeah, sounds about right," Daryl said, a slight chuckle in his voice as he spotted the crude obscenities that trailed across the building. He reached into the back seat and grabbed his crossbow, "C'mon,"

Beth hopped out of the jeep as the others congregated around Rick's vehicle, she couldn't help thinking how quiet it was; she didn't know much about Scottsboro, or Alabama in general – but surely, even in a small town there must be walkers somewhere? Surely not everyone got out alive? It was eerily quiet, they'd all grown used to the dull groans and snarls of the undead at the prison fences. Maybe Scottsboro had a massive barn, she inwardly winced at the bitterness of her own thoughts.

"Population of fourteen thousand, and not a walker in sight, they can't have all got away" Glenn said quietly, the group murmured in agreement, "Must'a hit the jackpot here,"

"Anyway," Rick said hastily, the sombre situation was distracting the group from their purpose in the city, "Daryl, I need you and Beth to scavenge everything from the gas station and as many cans of the stuff as 'ya can. The rest of 'ya; stick to your lists – we need everything and anything, as soon as 'ya got it, it goes in your car,"

~.~

Beth finished piling the last of the food into the boot of the jeep; they'd found all sorts in the dusty gas station; the shelves were bare and the pumps outside were dry, but there was a cellar concealed underneath the cashier's mat. Daryl had stalked down the narrow steps; flashlight in one hand and his crossbow – armed and ready, in the other. There was no hidden walkers thankfully, and to their relief they'd found the gas station's untouched supply store. Nine containers of gas, several crates of food, some cheap liquor and half a dozen boxes of provisions. She looked up at Daryl, he was perched on a metal railing on top of the gas station, he looked tense as he stared out across the barren landscape; his crossbow resting at his side. Taking a deep breath, Beth eyed up the large green dumpster that was rested against the stone wall, the roof was relatively low – if Daryl could get up there then she could too; he couldn't leave or run away from her – maybe now she'd get a straight answer out of him.

"Can we talk?" Beth murmured, Daryl jumped slightly; turning his head in her direction, he sighed before facing back towards the narrow road that separated their location from the main city.

"That a question or a statement?" He grunted, his back still facing her.

"Why did you kiss me and then just run off?" Beth snapped, "You act like you don't care about nothin', but you keep fucking about with my feelings and then coming back whenever it suits you,"

Daryl scoffed, his shoulders tensing a bit as he pushed himself away from the metal railing and took a few steps away from her. Beth narrowed her eyes; feeling brave, she flipped her middle finger at his back.

"Do you actually like me or not? If 'ya don't then... I don't know, just stay the hell away from me. I'm not a child and I ain't a fuckin' game,"

"Wha'dya want me to say girl?" Daryl shouted, swinging around to face her, "That I'm gon' be 'ya boyfriend? That we gon' have some perfect little cozy fuckin' life together? Naw, it don't work like that,"

"Daryl..." Beth breathed, her expression burnt both confusion and upset.

"I don't want 'ya and even if I did, I can't. Damn girl, this ain't some o' your dumb college shit. The dead are walkin' an' all 'ya care about is gettin' someone between 'ya legs ain't it? Who's next on 'ya hit list? Glenn? Rick?" Daryl knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he'd fucked it all up.

A loud crack ripped through the air as Beth's hand collided with Daryl's face. She had a good left hook, he'd give her that. Staggering slightly they stared at each other; a mixture of disbelief, anger and hurt.

"Fuck you," Beth whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. Taking a few steps backwards, she turned to leave the roof.

Daryl watched in horror at the event unfolded before him, he was helpless to stop it. The slate gave way underneath Beth's feet, slipping on the loose surface; she slammed onto her back, crying out in pain and shock. It happened so quickly. Beth was on the ground, eyes closed; covered in blood. Motionless, lying on a pile of discarded cardboard on the dusty ground. Cold nausea washed over Daryl and he started to feel dizzy, his vision shaking as he was shocked into action. Using the dumpster as a foothold, he dropped to the floor.

"Beth?" He whispered, feeling for a pulse. The gentle throb under his fingertips made him whimper, "Beth wake up!" He scooped her into his arms and ran towards the jeep, fumbling for the door handle before placing her gently onto the back seat. Grabbing one of the gas cans, he filled the vehicle's tank up with shaking hands; his head was spinning with shock and fear.

A loud snarl rang out, he swung around and saw a herd of walkers start to appear in the distance. His stomach dropped. There were hundreds of them. Glenn's words rang fiercely in his ears... population of fourteen thousand, they can't have all escaped... Panicking, he screwed the lid hastily back onto the container as the tank started to overfill.

Daryl climbed into the drivers seat, starting up the ignition; the jeep flew forwards in haste. He stopped in front of the store that the rest of the group were scavenging. Glenn and Rick were loading up the vehicles outside; judging from their expressions, they'd gathered a great deal of supplies. Daryl kicked the door open,

"Fuckin' get out of there, walkers are comin', fuckin' hundreds!" He yelled,

The pair stood in horror, staring as more walkers appeared in the distance. They'd found the people of Scottsboro.

"Where's Beth?!" Rick's voice shook, his eyes darting to the empty passenger seat.

"She had an accident. She ain't awake. I need to get her back," Daryl's voice broke. "D'ya know 'ya way back?"

"Yeah, we'll catch you up," Rick said, the pair tore back inside the store to alert the others. They'd be able to escape if they left quickly. The hungry growls rang out across the town as Daryl sped away.

~.~

Carol and Maggie were tending to their crop patch, the beaming sun was burning down on their backs as they picked the weeds away from the growing goods. Maggie leant back on her heels, she picked up her water bottle and squinted out at their surroundings; her straw hat had little effect against the afternoon rays. The group were expected home at some point today and Maggie felt uplifted to see her loved ones; smiling at the relatively empty perimeter, she began to hum lightly.

"Shh," Carol extended her arm across the girl to hold her hand still. Maggie glared at her abrupt tone. Silencing nonetheless, the pair listened. The quiet growl of the walkers called out over the terrain, no different to usual. Then the loud snarl of an engine. Carol's eyes widened as she sprang up and ran towards the gates, Maggie picked up pace and helped her to yank the fences open; she smiled giddily at the other woman, but her expression was blank.

"Why is there only one?" She whispered, Maggie's smile fell from her face as her eyes widened.

Daryl's jeep appeared on the road, the wheels kicking up dust into the air as it sped towards the open gates.

"Where's Beth?" Maggie shouted as he passed them; the passenger seat was empty "Daryl where is she?!" She swung around, but he'd already vanished through the second set of gates as Carl tugged it open for him. The women began to run back up towards the prison, their feet pounding against the hot ground.

"Hershel!" Daryl yelled, his voice panicked "Hershel get out here!"

The old man appeared from the ajar door, "Daryl?"

The man in question flung the jeep door open and scooped the limp blonde girl into his arms, the atmosphere turned to chaos as Daryl ran towards the prison, Hershel ushered him inside; slamming the metal door behind them.

"What happened?!" His face had paled considerably, as he pulled his shirt sleeves up; ready to inspect the damage.

Daryl lowered Beth down onto her bed, "Walkers appeared... hundreds of 'em...she fell off a gas station roof... she..." his voice broke as he clutched Beth's hand. His own felt sweaty and cold as they shook with fear.

"She's got a pulse," Hershel murmured, fumbling in a medical box for bandages, "The others?"

"On their way," Daryl whispered, his head was lowered; strands of dark hair concealed his eyes from Hershel's gaze.

"Gon' need you to go outside now Daryl," He replied softly, a hand touching the man's shoulder.

"Don't let her die," He whispered, eyes staring down at their hands – his fingers clutching against her pale skin. Without another glance, he turned and left the cell.

~.~

"There were hundreds of 'em, biggest herd I ever saw," Rick said, running a hand through his matted hair, "We're damn lucky we all got out okay,"

Michonne hauled the contents of their vehicle down onto the floor, they'd collected everything on their lists before the walkers came, they had a narrow escape. Some of them had reached the gas station as their trucks flew into action and away from the snarling grasps of the dead. "More than lucky," she muttered.

"Is Beth okay?" Maggie shouted as her father appeared from inside of the prison, her voice was panicked as she clawed for Glenn's hand.

"She's alive, hasn't woken up yet though. If Daryl hadn't got her back when he did..." The old man's voice was firm as he hobbled over to the group slowly. "He said she fell off the roof; his quick thinkin' saved her life,"

"Where is he?" Carol said, her eyes flicking around the courtyard, "I haven't seen him since you went in with Beth,"

"He was a bit upset, best leave him be for now," Hershel said quietly, Carol smiled sadly as she bounced Judith in her arms.

The group began to slowly unload their good from the vehicles, the heat of the afternoon sun made the job tiring,

"You got cola!" Carl chimed, grabbing a can from the back of Michonne's car, "Sweet!"

Michonne narrowed her eyes at the boy playfully; pointing an accusing finger at him "You keep your mits off my Big Cats,"

"We have Big Cats?" Carl's eyes widened, his hand smacking over his mouth in mock-astonishment, swinging around; he began to rummage through the bag – his fingers grasped onto some plastic film, "What these..."

Rick was too fast for him as he snatched the pack of chocolate bars out of his hands, he smiled smugly at the pair as their jaws dropped, "My Big Cats"

Carl tried lunging for the goods, but Rick just raised them above his head, "Nu Uh, you go and help Andrea with the unpackin',"

Carl glared at him before joining the laughing blonde woman with unloading the vehicle, she playfully pushed him and smirked; piling bags of baby clothes into his waiting arms.

"You gonna give them back now?" Michonne laughed and turned to Rick.

"No," He grinned widely at her, she swung her hand out to grab the chocolate from him but he caught it before she snatched them. Michonne didn't try pulling her hand back as Rick stroked his thumb across it tentatively; his eyes locking with hers "Maybe later," He winked; letting her hand go gently before sauntering off to take Judith from Carol.

It took a few hours before everything was unloaded from the vehicles and put inside the prison, the sun was starting to lower in the sky; jutting out soft streams of purple and red across the horizon. Andrea and Maggie cooked the group a meal of spaghetti with a cheese sauce, followed by a desert of tinned peaches. Hershel left the table early to check on Beth, whilst Michonne and Tyreese departed to start their watch tower shifts; Carol had offered to cover for the young woman – after her busy and stressful trip out of the prison, Carol wanted her to get a good nights rest; Michonne had declined her offer, thanking her for her kindness; but she felt the need to get some peace and quiet that night – and to watch out for Daryl. Nobody had seen him since he'd taken Beth inside; Hershel said he was upset, and he certainly hadn't left the prison. Michonne frowned as she peered across the courtyard, her eyes scanned across the shadows; trying to spot any sign of the redneck. Nothing.

The prison doors opened slowly; the hinges creaking and disrupting the silence of the twilight. Carl poked his head around the door; looking around, before edging out and quietly shutting it behind him. Michonne narrowed her eyes and whistled with her fingers, she smirked as he jumped and looked up at her, she crooked her finger at him; gesturing for him to join her in the tower. Michonne turned and descended the flight of steps; meeting Carl halfway.

"Why're you sneaking out?" She smiled, tipping his hat over his eyes.

Carl snickered and re-adjusted his cowboy hat, before looking up at her, "Gonna go and look for Daryl,"

"Stay in the tower and I'll go and look for him," Michonne leaned close to Carl's ear and whispered, "Just don't tell your dad!"

"As long as you don't tell him I'm out here," Carl nodded, fidgeting with his empty gun holster. "He don't want me walking 'round the prison at night, on my own," his accent become exaggerated as he imitated his father's southern drawl.

Michonne laughed softly, "You think I wouldn't have noticed you? Hardly Mr. Subtle are you Carl? Now c'mon, get up there so I can go and find Daryl," She patted him on the shoulder as the pair crossed paths on the steps; Carl reaching the top of the tower as Michonne disappeared into the night.

She checked the obvious places, then the not-so-obvious places, and then the places she usually found him; lurking around, trying to get away from the hustle of the prison life. He'd pace around like a caged animal, scuffing his boots across the floor and cursing under his breath. Michonne had never found him here before though, she'd spotted his silhouette from behind a storage container; he was slumped against a wall, his head held low and his cross bow discarded at the side of him. Frowning, she kept to the shadows; merely observing him – he must have spent all day sitting here, alone on the dusty ground. This was usually the place that Michonne would find Andrea when they first came to the prison, the woman was near catatonic when they'd showed up; they'd lost track of the near-misses that they'd struggled through whilst alone in the forests of Georgia. She knew that Andrea would never fully recover from her ordeal, Michonne would find her here; crying or just staring a t the sky, her blue eyes glistening from unshed emotion – from the stories she'd heard from Rick and the others about what the 'old' Andrea was like, she accepted that that version of her would never fully return. Something had happened before Michonne had found her – something awful, something that; whenever confronted, Andrea would just go blank; she'd never tell. Michonne hadn't found her in this spot in months though, she'd began to smile more and crack jokes with the rest of the group; she'd learnt that she didn't have to be alone any more. Maybe she'd told Daryl about this place.

Michonne smiled sadly before taking a few steps backwards, trying her best to stay silent as she backed away in the shadows; she didn't want to alert Daryl to her presence – he obviously didn't want to be disturbed.

"Have you found him?" Carl's voice made Michonne nearly jump out of her skin, her eyes were still on Daryl as she took a final step backwards and grabbed the boy.

"Good lord, how long have you been following me?" She hissed, her eyes wide.

"Since you started walking away," Carl whispered, "Have you found him?"

"Yes, now..."

Carl took a step forward, Daryl's hunched figure came into his vision, he opened his mouth to speak but Michonne's hand covered it, pulling him into the shadow of the storage container. She was about to drag him away when a strangled sob broke from Daryl's throat; he buried his face in his hands as he began to cry uncontrollably – overwhelming emotion racking his lean body. He looked almost fragile.

Michonne walked Carl backwards until Daryl disappeared from their vision, she moved her hand away from his mouth as they walked back towards the watch tower in silence; neither of them quite believing that they'd just seen Daryl Dixon break down.

"Y'don't say anything to anyone, and I'll steal the Big Cats back from your dad and we'll share 'em" Michonne whispered, trying to lighten the situation.

"Why was Daryl crying?" he mumbled.

"I think... I think that maybe I was wrong," Michonne said, realisation dawning on her "I don't think you should worry about it though," She pulled Carl into a embrace before pushing him towards the prison entrance, "Now go to bed,"

Carl smiled sadly before edging the door open and vanishing inside. Michonne felt an overwhelming pang of guilt as she strode towards the tower. Daryl wasn't trying to mess Beth around; she'd never seen him shed a tear for anyone before, and now he was hiding away and bawling his eyes out over a situation that she might have made so much worse.

~.~

Hershel felt his eyelids start to droop with fatigue, he'd been sat at his daughter's bedside for hours; the chair he'd dropped into earlier that day had started to become uncomfortable, and the throes of drowsiness had began to take ahold of him. He watched Beth as she lay motionless in her bed; her shallow breathing was the only indication of life. She'd be hurting when she woke up; her body covered in bruises and deep cuts, it was a miracle that she didn't break a bone when she fell. He thought about the first time that he'd patched up Beth when she was a child, her and Maggie were climbing a tree on the farm and she'd slipped; slicing her calf open on a jagged branch as she tumbled to the ground. She'd screamed and both girls had cried as he ran out to see what all of the commotion was, they'd both been fine after Beth was stitched, bandaged up and they'd received icecreams. Tree-climbing was an awful ordeal for little girls he had thought with a smile.

"Daryl..."

Hersel's eyes snapped open; firmly fixed on his daughter's face, her eyes were flickering open and her hand was twitching against the scratchy sheets. "Bethy, it's me – it's daddy. Baby, can you hear me?"

"Daryl..." She repeated, her voice gravelly and hoarse; her eyes still flickering in an attempt to open. Hershel grasped her hand and smiled; tears brimming in his eyes as they met hers.

"Stay awake baby, I'll go and get him," He leaned forward and kissed her forehead softly, he pulled back and saw that her eyes had closed again; but her shallow breathing had gotten stronger. She was going to be okay. Hershel wiped the happy tears away from his eyes as he hobbled out of her cell to find the others.


	10. Hate

“Michonne! Where's Daryl?” Hershel's voice cut through the silence of the night time, she whipped her head around and peered into the darkness.

“What's happened?” She shouted back.

“Bethy's awake!” He cried out, “Where's Daryl?”

“I'll go and get him, you stay here,” Michonne's heart pounded in her chest as she ran across the courtyard; praying Daryl would still be in his hiding place.

 

~.~

 

Daryl hated himself; literally despised every bone in his fucking body as he sat slumped against the wall. Every fibre of him burned as he thought about Beth lying motionless on the dusty floor, he buried his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes as he tried to blank out the cruel image. The thought of her dying because of him made him feel sick, the humid air contributed more to this sensation and had caused Daryl to vomit several times since he slammed the cell block doors behind him and vanished. He couldn't take his eyes off her as he lay her down onto her bed, his hands were violently shaking as he clutched onto hers. Daryl had taken one last look at her beautiful pale face before ripping away from her and down one of the winding corridors. After several minutes the reality of the situation kicked in, he leant against the wall - hands braced against the cool stone; retching and coughing as tears began to fall, the noise muffling the footsteps that sounded against the concrete behind him.

“Daryl?”

“What?” He growled, not turning around; angrily rubbing his watering eyes with the back of his hand.

“If you go 'round the back and find storage container C, there's a little red one about a hundred yards or so away; it's got a little wall near it. It's where I used to go, nobody ever looks there. Just a thought,” Andrea said softly. Daryl grunted in response and took off for the nearest exit.

So now he was sat here; god knows how many hours later. Andrea was right though, nobody had found him and the blonde sure as hell didn't tell anyone that she knew where he was. He'd half expected Carl to come tearing around the corner in the first few hours; the boy would inevitably demand to know what happened and Daryl really wasn't feeling up to Carl's bombardment, now the night was starting to close in; the growing silence made his tense muscles ease slightly. Thoughts of Beth raced around his mind as the minutes ticked on – he agonized at returning to the cell blocks, he couldn't bare to leave and discover the fate of the beautiful girl; the one that he really didn't deserve. Why did she like him anyway? Dirty fuckin' redneck and the farmer's daughter? Likely story. He imagined Hershel's distraught face as he poured venom into his words; screaming at Daryl, screaming because he was the reason that his baby girl died. Daryl's fault for being so fuckin' careless and wrong, his fault for playing with Beth's feelings and then causin' her to fall to her fuckin' death. Her last fuckin' words were said to hurt him, and they did – stinging him like poison, fuckin' ripping him apart as he watched her crumple to the floor. He should have grabbed her – told her he was sorry, sorry for ever doing wrong by her, sorry for ever giving her a reason to hate him. But it wasn't fuckin' enough now, she was goin' to die and he felt so helpless. Daryl buried his face in his hands as the emotion overwhelmed him, his body racked uncontrollably as he sobbed; tears scalding against his calloused skin as his walls broke down around him.

~.~

Daryl felt numb as he sat in silence, the darkness had enveloped the prison courtyard and the only noise that lingered in the air was that of the snarling undead – the sounds of death and decay ringing in his ears – he'd refused to process that Beth's lithe body could be lying there; Hershel forced to put a knife in his baby girl's head, the thought had made him sick again. The overpowering guilt flooded through his senses; he'd come to accept the fact that he'd leave at first word of Beth's demise; he couldn't stay here with that hanging over his head, after a while they'd say they'd forgave him – but their eyes would tell the lies, they'll look out the corner of 'em – accusin', they'd make him know that it was all his fault, her blood on his hands without even breathing a word. He'd seen that look before, when he was a kid – his momma had a cat; nasty fuckin' thing, one of those trailer park cats that ripped each other apart and shredded anything that got too close. He was only a kid at the time; around four or five – Merle told him to drop the cat in the river; to see if it could swim. Daryl listened. Obviously. His momma cried, Merle laughed and his dad beat him senseless; he hated that fuckin' cat as well but it gave him an excuse to leave him bloody and bruised – lying on the ground. Up until she died his momma would glare at him whenever he walked in the room; narrowed eyes and a wave of hate would wash over him whenever he was in her sight. 

Heavy footsteps made Daryl's head jerk up from his hands, he fumbled against the floor in the darkness; fingertips grasping around his crossbow as he stumbled to his feet.

“Daryl?” Michonne's voice hissed.

He remained silent, his eyes peering into the blackness – trying to make out her silhouette amongst the storage containers.

“Beth's awake,” Her voice was louder this time.

Daryl's stomach dropped in both fear and unspeakable relief, he passed Michonne as he ran towards the prison, his thick hair getting in his eyes as the wind battered it against his face; his lungs burned as he reached the door, swinging it open and heading for the cells; Hershel was stood at her door – he was smiling.

“'Ya just missed her,” He chuckled, “Kept askin' for 'ya and now she's asleep again,”

Daryl frowned as he entered the cell, his eyes locking onto Beth's unconscious form; he quickly noted that her breathing was normal and her pallor had decreased considerably. “She gonna be okay?”

“Yes, she's opened her eyes and spoken,” Hershel said, his eyes lingering on his daughter, “She's just sleepin' off her injuries now, can you watch her for a little while for me? I'm dead on my feet,”

Daryl tore his gaze from Beth and nodded at Hershel as he left; smiling, he crouched down next to the sleeping girl and cradled her hand in his; he pressed a kiss against the warm skin and smiled into it. “Baby wake up, I ain't leavin' your side 'til you do,” he whispered; peering up at her pretty face from underneath his fringe, “I promise,”


	11. Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors notes
> 
> Hey guys, thank you so much for all of your comments, favourites and follows. I appreciate it a lot. Much love to you all
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Beth's head hurt. Really hurt. That was the first thing she realized upon awakening, the heat of the pain spread across her skull like fire. Her body felt as though she'd been ran over – repeatedly. Beth tried to open her eyes, she hissed in pain as her eyelashes pulled apart; the crusts of sleep sticking them together.

"Beth..." His voice echoed, she began to feel his warmth wash over her; fingers clumsily grasping together.

She mumbled something incoherently, her throat felt as though she'd been eating razor blades solid for the last week, the inside of her mouth felt like gravel; she tried choking out his name but the words wouldn't come out. Her vision began to steady; focusing in on the face hovering beside hers.

"Hey, easy now. Careful, 'ya hurt," He whispered, vanishing for a second – returning and pressing the rim of a water bottle gently to her lips, "Drink it,"

She took a few sips, nearly choking as he moved it away from her, "Daryl," She spluttered, her blue eyes stared into his.

"Hello," He murmured gruffly, squeezing her little hand between his; looking down bashfully, he pressed a tender kiss against it.

"What happened?" Beth rubbed her eyes with her free hand, wincing at the large bandage covering her forearm.

"'Ya fell off a roof," Daryl looked up at her and smirked "Stupid,"

Memories flooded back to Beth – she remembered Scottsboro and the gas station, she remembered arguing with Daryl but nothing after that, she frowned and rubbed her eyes again; tilting her head to the side on the pillow and staring at him. "How long I been out for?"

Daryl smiled at her, "I've been sat 'ere 'bout three days,"

"You been here that long?"

He nodded and smiled slightly, "I best go get 'ya daddy, he's been worryin'," Daryl went to stand up but Beth's fingers grasped tighter around his, he looked down into her confused eyes.

"Did 'ya mean what you said?" She whispered, Daryl sighed and dropped back down into the chair at her bedside, he squeezed her fingers and smiled half-heartedly.

"Naw, I was just bein' a jackass," He looked down at their intertwined hands, his thumb stroked across a fading scar on the back of her hand. "I-I don't know how to do this,"

"What?" Beth tried to look into his eyes, but his head was held low; his fringe covering his darkened features.

"This... I don't know. Us," Daryl stammered, "I..I like 'ya... a lot, but I ain't done this before. Ain't ever got a girl before, I ain't what 'ya want,"

Beth could see the blush that had crept up onto Daryl's cheeks, he'd raised his other hand to his mouth and was nibbling on his thumb; still not making eye contact, "And how do you know that?" She murmured, ducking her head to try and read his expressions.

"I don't know, 'cause it's me. How the hell would we even tell anyone?" Daryl's voice quietened, his shoulders tensing up.

Beth tilted his chin up with her free hand, her eyes searching his; looking for any sign of doubt, "We'd figure it out,"

Daryl shifted himself off the chair and crouched down beside Beth, he hesitated slightly as he leant forward and kissed her hand, brushing the back of it against his cheek, "Y'sure?"his voice was barely a whisper.

She intertwined her fingers in his thick hair, he jumped slightly at the sensation but leant into her hand, their eyes met as she nodded at him; her head resting against the pillow as she carefully watched Daryl. He shifted again; the blush on his cheeks darkening as he leant forward and kissed her softly, his lips chastely pressing against hers; he leaned on his elbow awkwardly, trying not to put any weight on her. Their lips moved against one another, gentle and tentative – no distractions this time. Daryl pulled away slightly and looked into Beth's eyes, their breath was shaky as their lips brushed together.

"Gon' be the death of me girl," His voice noticeably shook as he smiled down at her, "If 'yer daddy don't kill me first,"

~.~

Beth hadn't had a moments peace since she'd woken that morning, her daddy had stirred her from her slumber rattling through his medical bag; smiling sympathetically as she'd opened her eyes, Daryl was still asleep – his head dropped forward as he snored softly; after she'd fallen asleep he'd moved back onto the chair and followed suit – still clutching onto her hand. Hershel smirked at him and winked at Beth as he dropped a metal medicine tray onto the floor purposely, Daryl snapped awake; grunting loudly as he jumped and looked around the room. His demeanour lightened as Beth giggled; he looked down at her smiling – his eyes still bleary with sleep, he squeezed her hand and looked up at Hershel.

"First bit of sleep he's had since you first woke up," Hershel chortled, handing Beth some painkillers and a water bottle, "M'sure Daryl's filled you in on what happened,"

She smiled and nodded, she was lying though; Daryl hadn't told her anything, they'd spent all night kissing and talking softly; all thoughts of anything important were forgotten. After he'd retreated her cell later that morning – to avoid suspicion and to start pulling his weight again, she hadn't had much time to speak to him. Folk came in and out of her cell all day for pretty much a week whilst she recovered; the only consistency she had was Daryl's presence outside her cell door – pacing around like a frustrated guard dog whenever anyone was in there with her. He'd take the brief opportunities to sneak her a kiss when no-one was around, but they hadn't had much time to talk since that night. Carl slipped into her room when Daryl was out on a run and informed her about what had happened when she had her accident; she was surprised to say the least about Daryl's emotional breakdown – he'd told her not to say anything to anyone; he feared the safety of his remaining Big Cat bars if Michonne found out that he'd told Beth. She'd been tempted to bring up the subject to Daryl, but her heart feared that he might bolt again – she couldn't handle that again. Michonne herself had visited a couple of times; first with Rick to divulge the details of that fateful day, she was horrified at the events that occurred after she fell. Rick had joked about Daryl practically burning the jeep out racing back to the prison; Beth felt a small flutter in her chest at the prospect of Daryl's mission to save her, she bit back the grin that she felt creeping onto her face. The second time Michonne visited she was on her own.

"Hey," She said smiling, dropping down into the chair by Beth's bunk, "How you feelin'?"

"A bit better," She replied, pushing herself into a sitting position, "Gonna try gettin' up tomorrow,"

Michonne leant back slightly to check the hallway, she looked back at Beth with a half-smile; eyes fixated to read her expressions, "He was very upset when he brought you back,"

Beth felt her chest tighten, she looked down at her hands; fiddling with the bandage on her arm, "Yeah I heard," she whispered.

"Didn't expect Carl to not tell you really," She said softly, a moment of silence passed between the two women, "I'm sorry. I was wrong about you two,"

"What do you mean?" Beth looked up.

"I thought he was messin' you around, but I ain't ever seen him that upset, I also ain't ever seen him happier than when you woke up. Just make sure you both know what you're doing. It ain't gonna be easy,"

"I know," Beth murmured.

Michonne gave her a hug and left the room without another word, leaving Beth alone with her thoughts. She glared at her empty cell; it was so silent – she felt frustrated at her lack of mobility; she felt useless. Beth glanced over at the drawers on the other side of her cell, a shard of mirrored glass lay on the top of it, with a sigh she realized that she hadn't seen her own reflection in over a week; she probably looked as gross as she felt. Determined; Beth pulled herself over to the edge of the bunk and dropped her feet onto the floor; wincing at the pain of her aching muscles – she hauled herself to a standing position and hobbled uneasily across the room, despite the pain she was doing fine until a cramp flared up her right leg; crying out she felt it buckle underneath her.

Strong arms wrapped around her as she fell backwards, Beth gasped in surprise as she was lifted into them, Daryl's eyes gazed down into hers, "You gotta stop fallin' over girl," he murmured; carrying her back over to her bunk. Beth pulled him down so he was lying next to her on the scratchy blanket.

Daryl glanced nervously at the door, "It's 't middle of the day, anyone could come in,"

"We'd hear their footsteps," Beth murmured, snuggling into his chest; fingering with the stitching on his vest.

"Didn't hear me," Daryl smirked, slipping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer.

"You're sneaky," She giggled, "Daddy and the others aren't that quiet,"

"S'true," He said softly, Beth felt his body relax a bit more as he played absent mindedly with her hair.

"Stay for a while?"

Daryl closed his eyes, he smiled and pressed a kiss onto her head, "Ain't goin' nowhere,"


	12. Run

Daryl growled and rolled over, he had no idea what time it was; but the moonlight shone through the small window in his cell, his sheets were tangled up around his limbs and stuck to his skin with a fine layer of sweat. He'd been dreaming again, the third time this week he'd woken up from an erotic dream about Beth; panting, hot and with a more than uncomfortable erection. Daryl had been furious with himself, he'd never had a problem in the past with his self-control, but after the last few weeks of being involved with the younger blonde, it had almost been like he was a teenager again; discovering a woman for the first time with... Daryl winced as the memory flooded back to him, it was a distant and disdainful as most of his older memories were. He defiantly didn't want to think about her any more; cheap, nasty broad. She was long dead and gone, just like the rest of 'em.

Daryl had found himself watching Beth as she went about her business around the prison, his eyes wandered to her lithe frame whenever she was in the room, he'd felt his pulse quicken as her gaze lingered on him; little secretive smiles that were shared between them made his cheeks flush and his palms sweaty. He felt like a god-damn teenager and it made him feel a mixture of repulse and excitement, it wasn't like him and Beth were waiting to take their relationship up to another level, it was just apparent lack of experience from both parties that caused them to still walk in circles around one another.

"Hey," her voice whispered in the darkness, the door creaked open as she slid through into his cell.

Daryl squinted and reached out a hand to her, he pulled her down to him as he wrapped his arms around her; Beth hummed with contentment as he pressed a kiss into her hair, "You alright?"

"Can't sleep," She mumbled, "What about you?"

"Somethin' like that," Daryl grunted, kissing Beth's hair once more.

She pulled away from him and slipped under the scratchy sheets, pressing herself against Daryl and tucking her head under his chin. He panicked at her close contact, Beth froze as she felt the evidence of why Daryl was really awake pressed against her stomach, the seconds felt like minutes as the silence grew between them.

"Somethin' like that?" Daryl felt Beth smile against his neck as she pressed a kiss against the cooling flesh.

"S'not my fault," He grunted, wrapping his arms tighter around her.

"Who's is it then?" She giggled, pulling back and looking into his eyes. Through the light of the moon, Beth could see the blush that had started to form on the man's face. He stared back at her, his eyes reading a mixture of confusion and arousal.

Beth bit her lip and winked at him, "Havin' dreams 'bout me are you?" Daryl said something incoherently under his breath and looked away from her; his blush darkening, "S'okay," Beth smiled and reached up to kiss him.

The kiss started slow and delicate; like they always had been – Daryl reached a hand up tentatively to her cheek, he was gentle; as if he feared a heavy touch would break her. Their lips moved against each other as Beth slid her little hand into his dark hair; pressing herself tighter against his broad chest. She felt Daryl shake slightly as he bit back a moan, the embrace began to heat up as their lips moved fervently. Beth whimpered as Daryl pushed his leg between hers and held the back of her neck firmly, she bit down softly on his lip; dragging a moan from between them.

"W-we can't," Daryl stammered; blinking hard as he forced his lips away from hers.

"Why not?" Beth's eyes were gentle as he fiddled with the ends of his hair.

"Dunno," He mumbled, looking away from her; fingertips tilted his chin back up to meet her eyes again, "Been a long time, dunno how to do this. Don't wanna disappoint 'ya,"

"I ain't done this before either," Beth whispered, pulling herself close to Daryl's body again.

"Didn't know that," He murmured, sliding his hand into her hair to rest their foreheads together, "I only done it couple'a times,"

"Who with?"

Daryl sighed and rolled over onto his back, pulling Beth so her head rested on his chest; her fingertips grazing against his skin. "There was some girl who was friends w' Merle, used t' see 'em together when I was a kid but then she moved t' Jacksonville so we didn't see her for a few years. Anyways, she came back hooked on crystal meth. No job, a kid and just the dirty trailer her momma left her when she died. Merle pimped her out to a few of his friends, then when I was nineteen he paid her fifty dollars and a gram of ice to fuck me , happened a couple'a times until she OD'd on the shit. She had her kid taken off'a her and ran off to Ohio with her junkie boyfriend. Never saw her again and ain't been laid since,"

Beth was silent for a few moments, "What was her name?"

Daryl cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Aava,"

"It ain't like that with us," She whispered, pulling herself up so she was leaning on her elbow; looking down at Daryl as her blonde hair framed her face like a halo.

"I know," He reached up and brushed a few strands away from her eyes, "Just dunno if m'ready for that yet,"

"We got all the time in the world," Beth lulled, kissing Daryl softly before dropping back down to curl up in his arms.

~.~

The screams echoed through the desolate hallways; blood-curdling yells and the eruption of unceasing gunfire bounced off of the walls like ricocheting bullets. The rooms were dark and stretched through the building like a labyrinth, Sasha panicked as she yanked at a door handle. Locked.

"Sasha come on!" Tyreese yelled, grabbing at his younger sister's hand, "They're coming!"

The team hurled themselves through the winding corridors in the darkness to escape the oncoming death. Their eyes were unadjusted to the murky black that hung in the halls like the smell of decay and rot, the smell had made them gag in disgust; the heinous odour had invaded their senses like the fear had overpowered them. They ran, feet pounding against the stained concrete; echoing through the halls, alerting the undead to their location. The growls rang out like a warning siren for the incoming death that awaited them.

They'd met a survivor on the way out hunting that day, he was distressed and frantic as he told of how his friends were staying in an abandoned factory a few miles back; three adults, a child and a baby, they couldn't leave because the baby was ill and it was too much risk out in the open. The team followed the man – promising them sanctuary upon their survival, they'd located the refugees within, but it all went wrong. The Atlanta survivors felt a sickening sense of deja vu as the ceiling in the desolate building caved in, and with it was a herd of walkers; snarling and baying for the fresh flesh that was harboured within the stone walls.

The group ran for their lives, not looking back; not daring to look back, as the screams filled the building as the lives of those sheltered within the damp factory were torn away from them. Maggie had grabbed the child; female, around five, and kept up pace easily with the rest of the group. One hand unloading rounds of bullets into the decaying flesh that followed them. Every turn felt as familiar as the next, the exits seemingly closing and trapping the survivors inside the walls. They ran, ran until their lungs burned from lack of oxygen and their muscles cramped from the strain of the pursuit. The walkers grew in numbers, the noise of the fight alerting more of them from the roof; they began to run out of bullets as the labyrinth corridors began to narrow and the dread set in. Rick swung around at the scream of his comrade.

"Run, just get out of here now!" Andrea yelled, she slammed herself against the metal door that separated the survivors from the growing herd of walkers, "I'll buy 'ya some time!"

"Andrea no!" Rick screamed, the growls were coming closer and they both knew that they couldn't waste precious time. His heart broke as he met the eyes of his friend, they pleaded with him to run.

They continued blindly into the darkness, the emotion overspilling in the group as Andrea's screams rang out in the distance; her sacrifice giving the team the much-needed time to get their bearings and escape the clutches of the dead.

A glint of light in the made them flee, the entrance of the building getting closer with each pound of their feet; the growls and thudded footsteps growing closer in the distance. They ran as the fear spread though them. They ran until their survival was grasped by their fingertips; the wrought iron door slammed shut, Daryl yanked the metal bar downwards – locking the door and the death behind them.

They stood still, gulping in deep breaths of fresh air into their lungs as the overwhelming depth of the situation sank in. Rick leant against the truck as he caught his breath, his eyes overspilled with tears as he gasped against his cries,

"She's gone..."

The child still clung to Maggie as they both cried with shock and exhaustion, the girl had lost her family within those walls, if it wasn't for Maggie snatching at the child's shirt and pulling her out of the way as her mother was devoured, then the girl would have followed suit. Her tiny little blonde body shook with her sobs. Sasha dropped to the floor, her knees scuffing against the gravel; Tyreese joined her, putting an arm around her shoulders as she sobbed gently into his shirt.

"We need to get back now," Rick said hoarsely, he turned to the man that had initially led them into the factory; he stood with his hands braced against a wall as he struggled to settle his unsteady breath, "Who are 'ya?"

The man looked across at Rick, his brown eyes were sombre, "My name's Bob Stookey,"

"How many walkers 'ya killed?" Daryl growled, eyeing the man up uneasily. His fingers tensed around his crossbow.

"Not enough," Bob said, his voice unwavering.

"How many people have 'ya killed?" Rick said sternly, taking a step towards the man.

"One,"

"Why?"

"Because she asked me to,"

After a few seconds of silence, Rick nodded at Bob; the group turned and got into their vehicles, the sickening atmosphere stunned them and took any words away as they headed back towards the prison. The winter was starting to close in and the previously sweltering Georgia sun that had basked down upon the landscape was replaced by thick, black clouds and the growl of thunder. As they drove back, Rick glanced in the interior mirror at Maggie in the back-seat, the little blonde girl had fallen asleep in her arms – the older woman clutching her protectively, sleep threatening to overwhelm her too. The skies opened and the peals of rain poured down against the ground, Rick gulped and re-focused his eyes on the road. This winter was going to be the hardest struggle yet.


	13. Grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors notes
> 
> I'm really sorry for the unbelievably slow update. I've been super busy for the last few months. But here it is – what you've been waiting for! Also, will have chapter 14 uploaded later on today and hopefully chapter 15 tomorrow.

"Andrea... She... She's gone," Rick swallowed hard.

The group had congregated in the cell block after they'd returned from their hunt, the rest of them had expected them to come back with a few dead rabbits, maybe even a deer considering how long they'd been. They hadn't been expecting them to get out of their vehicles; shaking and covered in blood. One survivor missing. Two found.

"She's what?" Carol choked out, holding her hand up to her mouth as tears began to seep from her blue eyes.

"She sacrificed herself to save us..." Rick said shakily, "We went to help some people and... walkers... they came through the roof. If Andrea...If Andrea hadn't have done what she did then... we all would have been dead,"

One of the metal chairs crashed against the floor, nobody made to move as Michonne grabbed her katana and stormed out of the cell block.

"Mich..." Carl began, Beth grabbed his arm and gave him a stern look; she relaxed her grip and pulled him into a hug. She looked over at Daryl - he was staring at the wall; his body was tense as he gripped his crossbow that was still slung over his shoulder.

"Who are these two?" Hershel sniffed, nodding towards the two new survivors.

Bob stepped forward and held out to shake Hershel's hand, "My name is Bob, and this is Jess,"

Hershel eyed the man warily but grasped his hand firmly, "My name is Hershel Greene," He gestured to the others stood behind him, "This is Beth – my daughter, Carol, Carl, Glenn and the woman that rushed out is Michonne. You know the others?"

"Yes sir," Bob smiled slightly. Hershel sniffed and returned the gesture.

Rick glanced around the room, he felt sick to his core. Andrea was dead and Michonne was gone. He rubbed a hand over his weary face and turned to Daryl, "Let's go an' get some air,"

~.~

Thick nausea washed over her as she stumbled into the courtyard, a loud buzzing noise filled her head as an overwhelming wave of dizziness coursed through her. Stumbled footsteps led her to the fences; away from the prying eyes of those unwanted – the living at least. She glared up at the snarling creatures pounding at the fence line; sacks of decaying meat with shedding teeth and nails.

Michonne dragged herself to her feet; wiping her mouth sharply with the back of her hand, she spat acidic bile at the floor beside her. Reaching for her katana, she screamed out in fury and punctured the air with deadly stabs of the vicious blade. The walkers along the fence line crumpled to the ground as one by one they were impaled by the blood stained metal. Michonne stepped back from the chainlink and dropped her blade, spitting at the floor again, she stumbled backwards.

Andrea was gone. The sheer thought of her best friend being torn apart by the walking dead was too much for her to bear. Another wave of vomit and acid forced the air out of her lungs as it expelled from her throat, she sank to the ground with a defeated cry; guilt and sadness overwhelmed her as her body wracked with distraught sobs.

~.~

Rick dragged his hand across his weary face, he could feel his body shaking with adrenaline and despair. Beginning to pace; he mumbled nonsensical words into the palm of his hand as he desperately tried to figure out what to do.

"Y'alright man?" Daryl grunted from his seat on top of the rusted storage container, "Quit pacin' around, 'ya ain't gon' get anything done that way,"

Rick looked up at his friend with a small, sad smile. He joined him on top of the unit and together they stared out across the prison courtyard, there was a small pile of dead walkers slumped up against part of the fence – they didn't need to question who, or what the motive was.

"Where d'ya think she is?" Daryl murmured, pointing a bolt at the heap of decomposing death.

He shielded his eyes and glanced out, "She's gone, ain't nothin' keepin' her here no more," his thick Georgia drawl was laced with sad undertones as he stared blankly at the wilderness, "D'ya think we can trust Bob?"

Daryl sniffed and wiped his hand across his mouth, "Yeah, he's harmless; just make sure he know the code,"

Rick nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off the prison fence line, "We gotta have a funeral for Andrea tomorrow,"

Silence hung in the air as the two men contemplated the events of the day that had unfolded before their eyes. Andrea was dead and Michonne had vanished, Rick hadn't expected much different from her; the two women had saved each other from the cruel world, and no matter how treacherous life has become in this bitter twist of fate; grief stays the same, Michonne had lost a friend in the most brutal way.


End file.
